Through Their Eyes
by EquusGold
Summary: Follow Khayl Coulter as she goes on an unparalleled journey that's going to change her in unprecedented ways. If you expect this fiery lass to just stumble into Thorin's company you'd be wrong because the quest is yet years in the future. First she must learn to survive and prove her place among the Khazad. Eventual pairing. Not what you expect I swear! Pre-quest & during
1. Chapter 1 Cousins

Chapter One: Cousins

**A/N Just some forewarning, this is my first fan fiction so I would very much appreciate any and all comments you have to make! It's FilixOC and deals with pre-quest (by a number of years) and during quest. Maybe a bit of post quest too.**

**Without further ado, welcome to my story. Read, review and most importantly, enjoy.**

**Chapter revised as of 9/9/2014**

**Revised again as of 19/12/2014 (major edits)**

**Disclaimer: Obviously, I own nothing to do with the Hobbit. Apparently the only thing that belongs to me is my overactive imagination. All rights reserved by J.R.R. Tolkien and the movie verse is the brainchild of Peter Jackson. I wish I had even a small portion of their creative genius.**

**Also! Please bear with me in regards to this chapter. Chapter four is the first chapter of this story that **_**I **_**actually like, so please trying reading up to and beyond that point! Thanks!**

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Mikhayla laughed as Prour moved beneath her. They chased after the other horse and rider, the two women laughing and whooping loudly as the enjoyed their freedom. Both young women had their horse-bows clutched in their hands and a quiver of arrows slung over their backs. They moved their horses using only their weight and the pressure of their legs, performing elaborate movements as they looped around the makeshift course firing at the targets with precision born from years of training, their mounts listening for even the slightest command.

"Don't draw your elbow back so high; keep it parallel with the arrow!" Mikhayla called as she watched Katie draw back her bow. Katie adjusted and the arrow flew straight and true, a couple inches or so shy of a direct bullseye. "Good, you're getting much better."

Khayl, as she was most commonly known, loosed her shaft as she came past the target, laughing at Katie's scowl as the shaft embedded itself almost square in the centre of the target.

"How do you do it?" Katie asked almost despairingly. "I'm not bad, but I can never nail the bullseye."

"Practice." Mikhayla replied, which was more or less the answer Katie had come to expect from her dearest cousin.

"You always say that," she muttered, extracting a laugh from her friend. "Come on, how?"

"Race you to the creek!" Khayl called instead, turning her horse, Prour, and racing away. Katie huffed, spurring on Khayl's other horse Nyx. The wind whipped through Nyx's mane as the pair galloped after the lithe black horse and its fiery headed rider.

The horses raced playfully as they entered a copse of trees, not hesitating in their break-neck pace as all of them new the path like the back of their hands. The creek loomed up ahead of them and the horses drew even before they leapt at the same time. Their riders leaned forward, holding on tightly with their legs as they felt the muscles bunching beneath the horses powerful, bare backs.

As always the flight seemed to take an eternity but it was no more than an instant later that they again adjusted their positions as the horses landed smoothly and calmly. They were in mid motion of running when the ground seemed to slip out from underneath the horse's steady feet. It was as though they were trying to run up a slick surface at a ninety degree angle, with the ground just slipping out from beneath their feet.

Mikhayla wrapped her arms and hands in Prour's thick mane and clung to his neck as the gelding screamed, legs scrambling for purchase that was no longer there.

Mikhayla opened her eyes for a fraction of a second before joining her horse's scream. The trees, land, creek, sky! It was all gone! They were falling through nothingness with mist all around them, above and below them.

And still they kept falling.

Up,

Down,

Or perhaps they were floating?

With no solid surroundings Khayl couldn't be certain of anything.

All she knew was that Nyx and Katie were with them.

And then it all went dark…

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When Mikhayla's consciousness flickered back again she took an involuntary gulp of air, only to drag water into her mouth and nose instead. Reacting instinctively, she gagged before the water had gone half way down her throat, coughing it back into her mouth, her nose and throat burning from the sensation. Now that she was slightly more aware she began to panic as she felt water pressing in all around her.

She saw Katie striking out for the surface and did the same, cupping her hands and dragging the water out behind her. Her clothes weighed her down but they weren't far from the surface. Lungs already burning, Khayl broke out into the cool, crisp air and heaved in a lungful of oxygen.

"Mikhayla?" she heard Katie splutter.

"Here!" she replied looking around. Prour and Nyx were there too, both of them quickly paddling to shore with long, powerful strokes. Together Khayl and Katie followed the horses, clambering onto the bank with fatigued limbs. Both of them dropped their sodden bows and quivers on the ground before they collapsed beside them.

"Prour!" Khayl called, coughing a little from the water that she had very nearly taken into her lungs. The well-trained, soot coloured horse looked over before he began to walk towards her, Nyx following suit.

"Where are we?" Katie asked, tilting her head back as she looked all around them.

"I'm… I have no idea," Mikhayla replied frankly, frowning. The land around them was lush and green with a brilliant blue sky and nary a cloud in sight. The embankment they had clambered out on was littered with rocks and wiry grass. There were trees everywhere; Mikhayla could see no more than a hundred metres in any direction for the trees, except for over the lake which was at least a half kilometre wide. "It's definitely not home."

"But how did we get here!?" Katie cried anxiously, wrapping her hands in her soaking hair. "Khayl, how did we get here!?"

"I don't know!" Mikhayla snapped at her frantic friend, her mind whirring a thousand miles a minute as she tried to come up with an answer. It was something simple, it had to be. There was a simple explanation and all she had to do was find it. "Maybe we went through a portal?" She said, shrugging. The words sounded stupid even as she said them.

"Ridiculous," Katie breathed as she looked around them once again. "This just isn't possible."

"Anything's possible," Khayl replied, moving further up the bank with her things and her horse. Katie hurriedly followed with Nyx who stubbornly insisted that she be allowed to eat grass before they went anywhere. "Isn't that what someone once said?"

"Shut up."

They moved into a cluster of low trees where the two young women eagerly stripped their sodden outer clothing and laid it in the sun before tying up the horses.

"I say we just rest here until we're dry and move on then," Khayl yawned, exhausted all of a sudden. "We can locate some people and then find out where we are."

"What's happening to us, Khayl?" Katie asked, looking to her cousin for reassurance. Mikhayla was only a few months older, but she had always been mature and wise, even when they were just little. Khayl always knew what to do. She would look after them, there was a simple explanation. Her mother had once said that Khayl was an old head on young shoulders, even though her immaturity could sometimes trump even the most mischievous young scamp. Khayl would work it out.

"Just rest," was the simple reply. Katie sighed and laid down, rolling onto her side and curling up into a little ball, confident that Khayl would watch over her as she slept.

As soon as Katie was breathing deeply and surely, Khayl also laid back before closing her eyes and opening her other senses. She did as she had taught herself, slowly relaxing and making her mind go still.

It was real. That was the very first thing she realised. She could smell crushed pine needles and damp leaf litter. She could hear a flock of birds calling to each other, a ravens caw as it was attacked by a nesting pair. There was a small creature moving very quietly through the undergrowth a few metres away, though it was hesitant of the heavy tread of the horses. Khayl opened her mouth instantly and all of a sudden she could _taste _the world around her. The slightly damp particles that floated through the air, the warm, moist air rising from their damp bodies as the two of them lay in partial sunlight.

There was a twittering of insects nearby and a fish flopped lazily on the lake. Khayl felt intoxicated by the sheer multitude of things she could sense. It was all very real and it was all very different. Where she had grown up in Australia everything was hot and dry, and when the wind blew it too was hot and dry. The most common scent there was of dust and heat. This was place was like nowhere she had ever been before.

But it _was _real.

Khayl lay back and rested her head on her arm, opening her eyes and looking up at the wavering tree tops. She heard the small creature rustling through the undergrowth again and looked over in interest. A large rabbit gazed back at her timidly. It was halfway through shedding a winter coat and Mikhayla found she had to smile at its patchwork appearance and bright black eyes. Seeing her as no threat the rabbit began to clean itself, resting in the sunlight as she and her cousin were doing.

Katie murmured something in her light sleep and Khayl turned her eyes towards her instead. The other young woman had rolled over onto her other side now so that she faced Khayl. Her eyes moved restlessly beneath their lids and her hands clutched at something that wasn't there. Mikhayla wondered if she was thinking about her family.

Khayl herself wondered briefly what it would be like if she never got to see her parents or her big brother again. She would miss them, she knew, but she knew it would be enough for her just to know that her family was happy. She hoped that her disappearance wouldn't cause them too much pain. They may not have been the closest family, but they were one of the strongest she had ever met. They accepted one another for who they were and had no problem allowing one another to find their own way. It didn't make their reactions to the current situation seem so scary. They would probably just scold her for disappearing and take her story with a laugh and a wink.

Katie's family, her dad and adopted brother, on the other hand … they tended to cling to one another emotionally. They were a lot closer and once they realised that Katie had disappeared they would likely flip out, even if they were only gone for a few hours. It would probably be a few days before Mikhayla's family became overly concerned, by which time both she and her cousin would be safely home with them laughing about their wild imaginations. A portal. Khayl had to laugh at her idiotic idea, even though it had just been a stray thought.

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It was high noon when Khayl shook Katie gently. The younger girl jolted out of her sleep, immediately springing into full awareness. Mikhayla hadn't realised her rest had been so uneasy.

"We should get going," Khayl said to her dark- haired cousin. "I'm half starved." As if in response her stomach gave a particularly ferocious growl causing Katie to laugh slightly. Over the past hour the innocent little rabbit had begun to look particularly appetising. She probably would have tried to catch it save for the fact that neither of them had a lighter or a knife.

"Me too," Katie began to get dressed, increasingly aware that she had been virtually naked aside from her bra and knickers. Khayl had long since gotten dressed in her usually tattered jeans and a black singlet with white branding on it. Between that, her casually scuffed boots and well-toned, muscled body she looked like she could take on the world. Katie, on the other hand was painfully conscious of her 'cushioning' as her mother called it as well has standing well under a head shorter than her cousin. She had to admit that they looked nothing alike.

Katie was of average height, average weight and what she deemed to be average looks. She thought her face too thin, her eyes too large. Her hair was dark, as were her eyes, and her skin was pale like snow. Her snub nose was always tinted red. She was of the very firm belief that she was nothing but average; nothing made her stand out in a crowd, not in the way her cousin did without even trying.

Khayl was tall, thin and fair with a glowing tan and adorable freckles. Her hair was auburn but in the sun it shone brilliant shades of crimson, copper and gold. Her face was solid with high cheek bones and expressive brows, though her nose was slightly crooked from one of her first fist fights. She made everything look ten shades too easy and she drove every girl green with envy.

Despite that Katie loved her to bits. Khayl was such a simple, kind person when you scratched beneath her confident exterior, and she had a nature that you either loved or despised. Katie felt like the only way anyone would know they were related was if you left them alone for two minutes and watched the resulting chaos ensue.

"Are you done daydreaming?" Mikhayla called as she used a rock to boost herself up onto Prour's bare back. The clever black horse bowed his head in acceptance of his load and responsibility to carry his rider safely. Katie managed a small smile as she looked at them both, proud and loyal, clever and fierce. It was like they were reflections of one another.

Katie pulled on her other boot and walked over to Nyx who nickered a small greeting. She took the reins and guided her next to the same rock Khayl had used and turned to mount. That was when she felt the ginger horse's teeth latch onto her jeans and the flesh beneath. Mikhayla laughed as Katie squealed and danced about, growling at Nyx before vaulting onto her back.

Needless to say, the connection between those two wasn't quite so strong.

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**A/N 9/9/2014 - Okay, first chapter revised. I really hate the beginning to this story, I do, it really bothers me. No matter what I do I just can't seem to get it right. I will say that the real story starts in chapter four. So bear with me until then, please. I've taken a few things out and adjusted a few others, but if Khayl still seems Mary Sue-ish then I apologise. It gets better, I swear.**

**Thank you for reading though, and your reviews and thoughts on my story will help me greatly. Even small things make me think about certain aspects of my story and voila! Better writing.**

**Read and Review!**

**19/12/14 – Revised again. Some major changes this time, though only to improve the flow, sentence structure and some minor details. Nothing relating to the plot has been changed.**


	2. Chapter 2 Where We Stand

Chapter Two: Where We Stand

**Wonderful people, thank you for persevering through my garbled mess, it means the world. Any and all reviews, follows and favourites are appreciated. Constructive Criticism is welcomed and respected.**

**Revised 9-9-14**

**Revised 19/12/2014**

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Fear and desperation drive people to do irrational things. Khayl knew this, but it didn't prevent her from pushing Prour hard through the darkness. The only indications she had of Nyx and Katie's presence were the little ginger horse's snorts as he cantered just behind them, forcing the water out of his nose and oxygen into his lungs.

They were all scared now, now that darkness had arrived and they hadn't seen a soul all day. Not even a single trace of humanity. They hadn't seen a plane, a road or even some long forgotten piece of trash. So they had continued moving along almost non-existent track that crawled through trees and over hills. The horses were anxious now, weary and hungry, but they kept moving at the girls' bidding even though their brains told them to stop and rest. Like their riders they wanted safety and comfort, a warm place to rest.

More than anything though, they all just wanted the rain to stop; it had come from nowhere, a slight drizzle at first before become a torrential downpour. The two young women and their horses were now wetter than they were after climbing out of the lake. Mikhayla thought that the lake might just be warmer to, as she gritted her chattering teeth against the lashing wind and biting cold. Her toes had curled up inside her boots and her bare shoulders felt as if the skin had been torn from them. Her wild auburn hair was plastered to her face, neck, shoulders and chest. It got into her eyes and slipped into her mouth or nose every time she tried to breath. She couldn't feel her hands anymore so she just gave Prour his head and let him run. If anyone could find them a safe place to rest she felt certain that it would be the wily gelding with his keen senses.

There was a wild, irrational fear within Khayl that they were being chased. She kept glancing back for signs of pursuit but all she could see were thick walls of inky blackness surrounding them on all sides. Every now and then a bolt of lightning would lance across the sky, cracking like a tremendous whip. At these times Khayl would shudder and she would feel Prour bunch beneath her as he redoubled his efforts. She didn't fear losing Nyx and Katie; Prour would never leave his companion behind. Another flash of light and Mikhayla realised she had been staring directly at her cousin who, like her, was crouched low over her horse's neck to prevent her bow or head from getting struck by any overhanging branches.

It seemed to Mikhayla that this dark, miserable night would never end, filled with anxiety and irrational fears as it was. But then she spotted a light and knew that her trust in Prour had not been misplaced; he was leading them straight towards a building of some sort. They cantered the horse's right up the house, seeing in the dim light that it was a very old cottage of some type with a small stable out the back.

"Hello!?" Katie called, springing down from her horse and ignoring the pains that shot up and down her body. She resisted the urge to move bow-legged as she scrambled to the door. "Hello? Can anybody help us please?"

Khayl clambered down and held both the horses, watching after Katie intently. Mikhayla saw something move out of the corner of her eye as she stared after her cousin. She whipped her head around fast enough to catch sight of a face disappearing behind a curtain. After a moment there was a clunk as the heavy wooden door drifted open a fraction. The face that stood behind it was stern and hard and the man looked out at them with clear suspicion written all over his features.

"What do you want?" He asked, his voice grave and severe, though Khayl though she could hear a wavering tone in it.

"We need shelter from the storm sir, and some food if you have any to spare," Katie put on her utmost endearing voice, though there was a strange note as she looked at the man closely. Khayl leaned forward a little, squinting as she tried to see the same as what her cousin had. The light behind the man silhouetted him and she could see no more than some vague out lines of his figure. "Anything you can spare would be greatly appreciated, though I am afraid we have nothing to repay you with."

The man stared at Katie for a long hard moment before he flicked his eyes over to where Mikhayla stood, still getting thoroughly drenched by the rain. Nyx nuzzled against her arm uneasily and Khayl scratched the older mare's muzzle absently as she tried to focus on the conversation that would determine whether they ate and slept in warmth and safety that night.

"What are you doing out in the storm?" The man asked simply. Mikhayla wondered why on earth this man was so suspicious. All she wanted to do was get out of the rain.

"We were lost and trying to find our way home when the storm struck. Now we are even more lost."

The man said nothing, preferring to mull over Katie's words as though deciding whether or not he believed them. He had no opportunity to reply however as the door was soon yanked out of his grasp by a stout middle-aged woman with rapidly greying hair.

"That's terrible, my dear!" she cried, taking Katie's hands in her own. She looked up at Khayl who had so far remained silent through the whole encounter. Her communication skills weren't greatly appreciated by strangers. "You can leave the horses in the barn with your things. Then come in and get something to eat! You must be famished."

The woman smiled broadly. Katie and Khayl attempted small smiles in return, unnerved by the woman's completely opposite disposition to her husband's.

"I will take care of the horses," Mikhayla said quietly to Katie as she stepped back into the rain to pass the older cousin her bow and half-full quiver. "Watch yourself with them." She warned.

"I will."

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The barn was small but comfortable and Khayl wasted no time in feeding and watering the horses. There was another horse in the barn, an enormous dapple grey draft horse. He was soon snuffling quietly with Prour, though Nyx couldn't reach the stranger. The horses looked comfortable and settled as she removed the leather rope bridles they both wore. The two horses nudged her appreciatively as she left them after checking their muddied feet for stones. The horses felt happy and safe so Mikhayla felt the same feeling of security blossoming within her chest. She even whistled a light-hearted tune as she dashed from the barn to the front of the cottage, head bowed against the downpour. She knocked feverishly and the door swung open with Katie right behind it.

"You're here!" she squeaked anxiously, reaching out and taking a hold of Khayl's arm tightly, dragging her inside.

"What's wrong?" Khayl found herself forced to ask. "Katie?" Neither the man nor his wife was in the room at that moment, but she supposed they were in the kitchen as her ears followed the sound of cutlery and plates.

"Nothing, not really. You'll – you'll just have to see for yourself. It's very strange – but it's not an act!" Katie looked as though there was something she was really trying to say, but just couldn't bring the words together sensibly. But as Mikhayla looked around the house she got a vague impression of what her cousin was trying to divulge.

There were no electronics, nor anything that looked like it was from the last four centuries. The entire cottage looked exactly like what Khayl imagined a medieval-type household would look like. The man that walked through from the kitchen balancing two bowls loaded with stew just reaffirmed her suspicions. He looked like a typical medieval farmer, or at least what she imagined one to look like. What had Katie said? _'It's not an act.'_

She looked at Katie, who stared back wide-eyed. Mikhayla opened her mouth to say something but it started watering so fiercely she was forced to close it again, her stomach screaming at her as her nostrils were assaulted by a myriad of savoury scents.

"Dig in!" the woman exclaimed with a broad smile, drawing four tankards and a jug out of a cupboard. She gave the jug to the man who left the room, presumably to fill it. Khayl didn't wait to find out; she virtually inhaled the stew and then looked over with envy at Katie who pursued the contents of her bowl in a more sedate manner. The older man returned with the jug and filled all four tankards to the brim. Mikhayla watched them both take a drink before she took an experimental sip of the cool brown liquid. It wasn't beer, her tastebuds knew that much, but she enjoyed it all the same, right down to the last drop.

Their hosts weren't hesitant in providing a refill however and talk steadily began as Katie finished her stew and also turned to the drink. Though she had never tried it before, Khayl had a nagging suspicion that it was ale. Not that it really bothered her.

Khayl and Katie introduced themselves and stuck to the story of how they had become lost with Khayl's quick tongue filling in a few blanks here and there.

"So what were you doing so far from home?"

"There was a wolf," Khayl improvised, catching the encouraging look her cousin tossed her way. "It's killed tons of our lambs. So we thought we would take our bows and deal with the problem. Only thing is, we got a little too wrapped up in the hunt, and lost our sense of time and direction. Nowhere seemed familiar."

The older couple took Mikhayla's word at a glance, all signs of suspicion having been shut outside along with the rain and lightning. An idea sparked within Khayl's mind as she sat there, mulling over the top of her tankard.

"You wouldn't happen to have a map perchance?" she asked with eager eyes.

"Of course, you can take it with you, if you like." The woman took their bowls from them with a soft smile before returning with an old, faded map. It was wrapped tightly in a waterproof skin. She also gave them a thick parcel each, which the two young women took with a gracious nod. "Go and get some rest, my dears. Just come and get us if you need anything." The woman offered kindly, ushering them to the door.

The two cousins stumbled wearily to the barn where they checked the horses before they opened the parcels, looking at one another as a thick rug fell out for each of them, followed by an assortment of clothing.

Khayl dressed quickly, throwing her own saturated clothing over a nearby railing before pulling out the map that the couple had given her. She laid it out and sat, merely staring at the old piece of parchment as Katie continued to dress.

"What is it?" Katie asked, pulling a fleecy jumper over her head, curious as to why her cousins lips had twisted together and her face had gone as pale as paper.

"We're a long way from home, Katie," Mikhayla managed to bite out. "And I don't think its going to be easy to get back."

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**A/N I think I can safely say you have no idea what these to (Khayl in particular) are in for haha. But you'll just have to wait and find out. *smiles* updates may be a bit irregular 'cause I'm year eleven this year and working hard, so I thought I would forewarn you. Your feedback will absolutely pulverise any writers block however! So thanks in advance. I also want to hear your ideas!**

**Also, sorry it's short! I'm using this story kind of like a gateway back into writing since it's been an awful long time.**

**19/12/2014 – minor edits improving flow, sentence structure and adding the scene with the map as I clean forgot about it last time round. No major changes other than that.**


	3. Chapter 3 Those Darn Fey

Chapter Three: Those Darn Fey

**Revised- 9/9/14 **

**Thank you everyone for your support. Please read and review.**

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Katie woke up with the scent of hay tickling her nose. She was secretly glad that she didn't have any allergies as she sat up wearily, yawning widely and rubbing her eyes. She could hear Khyal breathing quietly from somewhere beside her. Katie stretched the stiffness out of her arms and legs before she forced herself to her feet, groaning as her head gave a disconcerting spin before settling. Her eyes focused and she moved over to Nyx, patting the ginger mare affectionately on her nose.

"Good morning," she yawned, attempting to straighten her clothes. The burgundy tunic she wore was soft and worn with a frayed hem. The pants were woollen and a little itchy. But they were warm and comfortable, and for that she was grateful.

"Sleep well?" she asked the cheeky horse who nickered in response. Mikhayla murmured in her sleep and Katie looked over at her cousin, hoping she hadn't disturbed her rest.

She saw Khayl's contented, sleeping face, but then she did a double take and stifled a scream.

"Khayl?" she called softly, torn between waking her and leaving her be. The other woman shifted in her sleep, settling on her back before becoming still once more. Katie decided she was probably going crazy. Or it was some kind of strange prank. The couple… what if they did it?

Katie snatched up her bow and arrows before storming out of the barn. She tried to channel her terror and confusion into rage and bravery, but such a thing wasn't necessarily in her nature. By the time she got to the door of the cottage she was practically quivering with fear, though her heart stubbornly refused to accept what her eyes were seeing.

She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window and was more than relieved when the appearance of her face was perfectly normal. A piece of her mind shot back to Khayl's face and she felt a part of her heart burn with sympathy. If these people had done this to her… But what if they hadn't? Who was to blame then?

"Hello!?" she banged her fist on the door, not caring if she woke the couple. "I need to talk with you!" and possibly kill you if you did anything to Khayl, she added quietly in her mind. She went to pound on the heavy wooden door again but it flew open at her touch.

"What!? Has something happened?" The woman exclaimed, staring wild eyed at Katie. Her hair was frizzy and unkempt, her eyes still bleary from sleep. Her other half appeared at her shoulder a moment later, fully dressed and looking tired but alert. "What are you hollering about, dear?"

There was utter bewilderment in the woman's eyes as she scanned Katie's features and the young woman was now certain that the couple had done nothing to Khayl.

"Something – something happened to Khayl! But I don't know what! I jus- I just woke up and she was changed!" Katie sobbed, burying her face in the woman's chest as she was hugged fiercely.

"Hush my dear," the woman stroked her hair gently. "Let us come and have a look at your friend and we can see what the matter is for ourselves. Now stop this foolish crying this instant young lady." She smiled at Katie ever so gently and the young woman bowed her dark head, smiling sheepishly.

"Of course ma'am," Katie led the way to the barn, uneasiness growing in the pit of her stomach. She had been so sure of what she had seen, but now she was quite so certain. What if nothing was the matter and she had panicked for absolutely no reason? What would these kind people think of them then? "I think she's still sleeping." She said as she stepped quietly into the barn with an audible sigh of relief, the man and his wife following along just behind.

Sure enough, Mikhayla was still sprawled on her back in the hay, her head slightly tilted to one side as her arms clutched the blanket to her chest. Even at the sight of her again, Katie couldn't help but remark at the way her cousin could sleep through anything. She had once gotten dressed, using a hair dryer and straightener right next to Khayl's bed and gone through a whole regime without her friend even fluttering an eyelid.

But this was not that Khayl. This wasn't the Mikhayla Coulter who laughed at the dumbest jokes just to make people feel better; she wasn't the Mikhayla Coulter who tried her best to please everybody though nobody seemed to realise it; she wasn't the Mikhayla Coulter who would get into an argument for arguments sake, only for the other person to be struck dumb when they realised she was just teasing.

That Mikhayla Coulter had been a strong, gentle soul who hid behind her tough exterior and witty one-liners. That Mikhayla had seemed arrogant and prideful to those who associated with her. Those who knew well saw her as brash and indifferent, whilst those who loved her saw her as clever and teasing. Those _she_ loved saw her as insightful and strong-willed. That Mikhayla Coulter had been all of those things and more; a many layered person with a minor complex. She had been different.

But this was _not _that Mikhayla Coulter. This was very nearly a stranger's face.

It was Khayl though; she had the same high cheekbones and strong jaw. Now though her whole face had broadened and changed, her nose had grown slightly with it along with her ears which were half-hidden beneath her tousled auburn hair. Her brows were the same though. The way they curved temperately across her face brought a real kick to any expression she made. Her lips were the same too, the upper one well defined and a smidge too thin. Her freckles hadn't changed either, the way they were scattered across her cheeks faintly like her creator had put a final coat of dusting on her before she was brought into the world. It was Khayl but she was very different.

Her form had changed too; Katie could see that even with the blanket that covered her cousin. She seemed … condensed. A great deal. Shorter _and _broader. It must have been significant too, for Katie to be able to see it while her cousin was still asleep.

"I thought her friend was a human?" The older man asked, a note of surprise in his voice.

"She wa – is." Katie affirmed continuing to stare at Mikhayla. Perhaps the most disconcerting thing about her friend was the facial hair that had grown over night. It wasn't much, but it began as a small patch beneath her lower lip before trailing down to cover her chin in a small goatee. Katie stared a moment longer at one of the strangest things she had ever seen before she mentally scolded herself. Her cousin had completely changed form and yet Katie was most concerned about the facial hair. Pathetic.

"Well, that certainly looks like a dwarf to me," the man said, curiosity practically leaking from his voice. "but I believe you. But how did it happen overnight?"

"It's those darn fey," his wife spat, wearing a frown for the first time Katie had seen. "Only they could do something like this to a perfectly nice girl."

"Fey? As in magical creatures?" Katie was forced to ask. These were things Khayl had been more interested in than her. "And dwarves? Dwarves aren't real, it's just an insult to unfortunate people." She had to add.

"Dwarves aren't real?" the woman sort of reeled back at Katie's proclamation. In unison the small group moved outside to avoid waking Khayl. "They most certainly are young lady and your friend is now when of them. How could yeh not know about dwarves?"

"That story Khayl told last night, about the wolf? It wasn't true," Katie found herself forced to admit. She wondered if Mikhayla would slap her out if she were beside her at that moment. "We come from another place, another time perhaps. I think – I think we were brought here by magic."

"Go on."

"I didn't tell Khayl my suspicions because she would think I was being childish. I can hear her voice now: 'there are many things in the world, Katie, and magic isn't one of them!'" with a start Katie recognised that she had lied. It wasn't Khayl's voice she heard, but her own with an echo of her grandmother. "We don't belong here. There are no dwarves or fey in our world, and people don't live like this anymore!" she gestured wildly at the surrounding farmhouse and barn.

"Katie?" a murmur came from within the barn. The young woman in question flashed a startled look at the kindly couple who nodded and followed her inside. "What're you shouting for?" Khayl's voice was sounding stronger by the moment and when she came into view she was already standing, though a smidge awkwardly. Perhaps she thought she was hung over as she tried to move towards her cousin only to stumble into the wall.

"Urgh… I feel like I've been kicked in the head by a horse." Khayl mumbled as she straightened up slowly.

"Perhaps you would rather," Katie said before she could stop herself. "I mean – oh I don't know what I mean!" she looked deploring at the farmer and his kindly wife.

"Something must have happened to you after you came through the portal," The husband said. Khayl's jaw dropped and she glared her eyes accusingly at her cousin who in turn bowed her head and accepted the blame with hands raised. "My wife thinks it was fey, but that doesn't matter anymore. There's someone who can help you and he passed through here not a day before you did. I think yeh best bet would be to go after him and seek his aid."

"Thinks what was fey!?" Khayl snarled, narrowing her eyes fiercely, her mind whirring with possibilities.

"This," He took her to a trough outside the barn and forced her to look down into the reflective waters. Mikhayla merely stared down into her reflection with an impassive expression. Then she looked down at her body and then brought her hands up before her face. Khayl's expression was dark as she looked back at the husband. "You're a dwarf now."

"It's not possible," Khayl said. Katie respected that she didn't drop to the ground and start screaming, but that just wouldn't have been in character for her anyway. "We shouldn't even be here. This can't happen to me." Her voice was so deathly still and quiet that it was almost painful to listen to. Katie's whole heart panged with sympathy and she saw the same emotions reflected in the eyes of the kind couple.

"I'm sorry, lass," the man sighed. "But that man I mentioned may well be able to help you or at least send you to someone who can."

Khayl drew in a deep breath and covered her face with her hands. Katie thought for a moment that her cousin was about to start crying or have some sort of mental break done but she just spoke quietly.

"So, what does being a dwarf entail?" she took her hands from her face and allowed herself a brief, strained smile that never exactly reached her eyes. "I mean, aside from the shortness and facial hair."

"I don't know, really," The man said, sharing a quick glance with his wife who was pale and quiet. "They're miners, smiths, warriors, craftsmen. Most dwarves are male. It's a great dishonour for a dwarf to cut his hair and they live in, or rather _under, _mountains mostly. They're a secretive people with distaste for outsiders. That's all I really know."

"And you think this man can help us?"

"Yes, if he can't help you then I'm not sure who can."

The talk then turned to that of the road and the man's wife hurriedly stocked some packs for them as well as searching for some better fitting clothes for Khayl. The man went over the map with the two young women before he helped them tack up their horses. Katie thought that maybe Khayl was finally going to snap when her cousin took note of how small she now was. She was only about five foot tall now and nearly toppled over backwards when she tried to throw her saddle over Prour's back. She was so very ungainly and unaware of her changed body, so much so that she stumbled constantly and nearly threw herself clear over the top when she went to mount the horse. (using the fence as a slight ladder)

"Are you okay?" Katie asked as they rode away from the smiling, waving couple. Khayl glanced over at her quickly before she fixated her gaze on the road ahead.

"Not even remotely," she paused for a second before a small smile pricked at her lips. "Perhaps I shouldn't have drunken so much last night."

Katie couldn't breathe for laughing. Once she finally got her raucous laughter under control she found that she just had to ask her cousin another question.

"Doesn't it feel strange?"

"Honestly, if it wasn't for your face and your words I wouldn't think there was a thing wrong, other than how we seem to be stuck in some sort of alternate dimension," Katie marvelled at how calmly her friend was handling it all, though knowing Khayl she had her emotions trapped up inside somewhere and was torturing them with a feather on a stick. Katie stifled a giggle at the thought. "In all honesty, I only feel like I have an enormous hangover. I feel thick and clumsy, though my mind is relatively clear."

"But you're so short!" Katie exclaimed.

"I – I suppose." Khayl was quiet for a long while before she attempted an answer. "It just … feels like the world has gotten bigger. I'm not that small though, right?"

"Uh … you're like five foot nothing, if that," Mikhayla shot her friend a dirty look out of the corner of her eye. "What!? You even make me feel tall, and that's never happened in my life."

Khayl muttered something under her breath and Katie leaned towards her, trying catch the end of her sentence. It was something about 'freaking dwarves,' and 'insufferable relatives.' She stifled another quick grin.

"Come on, do we want to catch up to this person or not?" Khayl growled, spurring Prour into a steady canter that would eat up the miles in no time.

"Well, I'm not entirely sure I do," Katie called as she hastened after her cousin's now solid figure. "You see, I quite like this change. It's definitely an improvement over you being so darn supermodel all the time."

"I hate you," was the reply. Katie had to wonder how she was managing to keep her balance after such a radical, physical change. Then she remembered that Khayl would never let such a thing stop her. One did have to wonder how they were at all related by blood.

They found about midmorning, strolling along on his spindly ginger horse. Katie didn't doubt for a moment that this was the man they were looking for. He wore a long grey weathered robe, a pointed hat and a scarf. He carried a gnarled staff in one hand and his beard and hair were long, thick and, like his clothes, grey.

The two young women, well one woman and one she-dwarf, slowed their horses to a docile trot as they approached. The old man looked up and smiled not unkindly.

"Hey- uh hi … sir," Katie began uncomfortably, wishing the old couple had provided a tiny bit more information than they had. "We're uh- no from here, and we've run into a spot of trouble. We were told you could help, or maybe at least point us in the right direction."

"Perhaps if you direct me to the point of your troubles, my dear," he said gently with a twinkling eye. Katie found herself blushing furiously under his gaze. Khayl, who had been instructed by the couple to wear a hood until they encountered the man, slowly lowered it from her head, staring the old man straight in the eye as she did so.

"Strange to see a lady dwarf on the roads." the man said with a smile.

"I'm _not _– I'm not a dwarf," Mikhayla forced herself to say. "Not really. I got turned into one last night. My cousin was right when she said we're not from here; we're from another world or time or _something. _But we're here now and the first night we're here I get turned into a dwarf." Khayl tried to ignore how petulant and needy her voice sounded, forcing it to be strong, but it cracked and shattered on the final word.

One good thing though; the old man took their story at a glance. Neither of the two could help but notice how trusting people in this place seemed to be.

"That is interesting, indeed," He mused into his beard. "I fear I have never heard of such a thing, never once in all my life. But is there a way to turn you back? To send you home?" Katie and Khayl shared an anxious glance but otherwise remained silent as the old man thought deeply.

"Come sit with me," he said at last, swinging his leg up and over and dismounting from his horse with surprising agility for an older fellow. He strode over to a fallen long and sat, pulling out a pipe and lighting it with a flame from the end his finger. The two young women stared at him, agape.

"Was that … magic?" Mikhayla forced herself to speak. Katie seemed to dumbfounded to do anything but stare.

"What – oh yes. A simple thing." He flicked out his wrist and conjured a small flame in his palm.

"A simple thing?" Khayl eyed the flame warily, like they were all about to self-combust at any moment. "Magic is _not _real!" she choked out.

"Is it not?" The old man – wizard – let them chew on his words for a moment before a cleared his throat, causing both young women to start. "Now tell me this most intriguing story of yours and leave not a detail out."

Katie spoke up at last and told their story, from beginning to end, adding in every piece of conversation and every speculation that ever crossed her mind. Khayl found herself marvelling at her forthrightness

"Can you help us, sir?"

"Perhaps," he said at last. "Tell me, Khayl, what did you feel when this portal opened?"

"I felt like the whole world tilted backwards to stand on its end and then we fell downwards, or backwards." The old man nodded twice, fingering his beard.

"Katie, you said that you were pulled downwards, as though you were being sucked through quick sand?"

"Yes." Katie looked as bewildered as Mikhayla felt.

"So one of you was drawn and the other fell. That is most interesting indeed." Khayl though it was more likely that one of them had gotten confused than that it had any real significance, but she let him go. "What was going through your mind the exact moment before the portal?"

"I wasn't thinking anything," Khayl said. "I was riding, bow in hand. There was scarcely a thought that passed through my mind long before it happened. But at that exact moment? No, I wasn't thinking anything at all that I can remember."

"I was thinking about my mother," Katie looked down and her voice was soft. "She left me when I was born upon my father's doorstep. He rarely spoke of her. At that moment I was thinking only about her. I wondered what she would think if she could see me now."

The wizard seemed to be putting the pieces together in his head now and Khayl wondered if he was ever going to share his own thoughts on the matter.

"You're father's name is James Coulter." He said simply evoking a cry from Katie.

"Yes! How do you know!?" Her eyes were wide and terrified and Khayl's fists curled out of reflex.

"You're mother one day told me you might come, Katie. Though she didn't deign to tell me you might bring a friend." He shook his head slowly, missing the alarmed looks passing between the cousins. "She's an elf with a strong magical essence. Something she seems to have passed on to you. Though how she, or you for that matter, has ever managed to travel between worlds is beyond me."

"I didn't do anything!" Katie exclaimed, looking as though she wanted nothing more than to run away at this very moment, though Khayl could see the curiosity sparkling in her eyes. "And I'm _not _magic. Or half elf." She added as an afterthought.

"Why does the thought frighten you so?"

"Because this-"she gestured wildly to the world around them. "Is unnatural. At least tell me I didn't do this to Khayl!"

"You didn't, don't worry. I believe Middle Earth itself did that to your friend,"

"Uh… what?" Mikhayla finally found she had to say something seeing as though the conversation was back on her.

"An adjustment of sorts. In your world there are only humans, you said. So upon coming here you were most likely sorted into the race that best suits your nature. In this case the strong-willed, hot-headed and loyal race of dwarves."

"So the humans here are of a different nature?" Khayl tried to think past that annoyingly little voice in the back of her head that kindly kept reminding her that she's crazy.

"Not especially, no, just that you are not of the same nature. I imagine where you're from the humans have every type nature, like a hotpot with everything thrown in."

"So… I'm stuck until we leave this place?"

"Yes."

"Wonderful."

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

**A/N Pfft, this chapter sucks, but after this one I do believe everything starts to go together better. Thanks if you stuck by me for these three chapters. **

**Your thoughts and reviews mean the world to me, so please drop one if you have a spare moment. I don't actually care how much time has passed since a chapter has been posted; I would still like to know what you think.**

**Loves XO**

**EquusGold**


	4. Chapter 4 Argo

Chapter Four: Argo

**_Leopara:_ Thanks for your review! I know I should have gone for suspense, but for some reason this just seemed to work better (hopefully you'll see why as you read :) ) but on another note I'm taking Khayl to Ered Luin so there should be plenty of interactions. I'm actually hoping to build on the story before the quest starts looming over everything. I hope I provide however when it comes to all of our dwarf friends! Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

**Also, thanks _Marina Oakenshield_ for your consistent pokes on each chapter. They actually mean quite a lot to me :D**

Travelling with Gandalf the Grey was boring. At least, that's what Mikhayla thought. When the old wizard had been able to provide a solution for them he had insisted that the two young women travel with him. Like they really had a choice in the matter.

They were going to a town called Oldernoff, which was probably the weirdest name for a place that Khayl had ever heard. Nevertheless she rode in silence whilst her cousin chatted amiably with the wizard. Gandalf had promised to teach Katie magic, which Khayl though was most certainly strange since he had made no promises regarding her own humanity. But maybe she was just being bitter.

Years, Gandalf had told her. That was how long it might take to find them a way home. That was how long she might be a dwarf. But that wasn't what bothered her the most. It wasn't that her family was so far out of reach it hurt think about, or that she may never see them again. It wasn't that she was a dwarf or that they were in some kind of other world.

What bothered her most was that her world was now filled with if's, maybe's and might's. That sense of insecurity, of an ever changing future, that was what bothered her most. Everything in this world was unfamiliar. Everything set her teeth on edge when she looked at it.

At the moment she was missing the birds.

It was raining and she was missing the birds that flocked about her home in this type of weather. It was probably sad that she no longer cared about being wet through to her bones or that the clothes she wore seemed to trap water better than it warded it off. Even her boots were filled with water. And still it kept raining. Back to the birds, Mikhayla told herself, trying to keep her mind off the damp that squished under her backside with every step Prour took. The birds in Australia are bright and full of song and colour, even in the rain, _especially _in the rain. They squawked and keened and laughed; no chirruping or tweeting there. In this damp, fungus strewn hellhole the only bird was a singular raven that crowed mournfully from somewhere above.

They been travelling for four days and had scarcely seen a soul. One of the nights had been spent at an inn on the side of the road. Ironically that had been the only night it hadn't rained. They had bought some saddles when they arrived; two heavy old things that would have been more at home in a museum. That night though they had managed to scrounge up some clothes that fitted the new Mikhayla, as well as pair of heavy dwarven boots that didn't pinch her feet like her others. The belted tunic and leather coat had supposedly belonged to some long dead patron of the inn who had gotten into a fight only to be stabbed. It wasn't the best story to go with her new clothes but she felt that maybe she could turn their luck around. Gandalf had said they were necessary as they disguised any of her … femininity when coupled with a hood. She hadn't cared. They were clothes, and they were warm and comfortable. Plus, they were free since Gandalf had paid for everything.

"Khayl! Stop trying to fry the rain with you glare and get over here! We've finally arrived." Katie's young voice carried on the eager wind and the she-dwarf looked up, scowling, only to realise she had fallen a ways behind the others. She spurred Prour on up the muddy slope. "Pretty, isn't it?" Oldernoff looked like a sparkling nest of fireflies through the rain.

"Anything that speaks of warmth and shelter is considered pretty at the moment." Khayl reminded her as she rode after Gandalf who had taken to ignoring her since she apparently had nothing constructive to say. She nearly jumped straight out of her new saddle when he addressed her directly.

"Khayl, I've been thinking long and hard about what to do with you." He said, turning in his saddle to look at her.

"Sounds like you're about to palm me off to a babysitter." She found herself grumbling in reply. Gandalf merely took on an innocent expression and continued talking as though he'd hadn't heard her.

"And I remembered a discussion I had with a fellow not too long ago. He's a dwarf you see, and a very knowledgeable and well-respected one at that."

"You are sending me to a babysitter!" Mikhayla exclaimed, outraged. This time Gandalf scowled at her.

"It's for your own benefit. I told you, we might never find a way to send either of you home. In which case you will need to learn about the ways of your new people. I will teach Katie what I can and then I will find her a place of her own among to elves." Khayl couldn't help but feel like they were being punished for something they hadn't done.

"Why can't I go with you?" she found herself whining. Instantly she felt ashamed. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, promising herself not to let the situation overwhelm her. "I'm sorry. You know this world and magic etcetera whilst we are just strangers here. If you say this is what must happen, than it must happen."

"Thankyou, Khayl," Gandalf nodded his appreciation. "Come, let us hasten for dinner."

"Amen to that!" Katie exclaimed, having watched the exchange between the dwarf and the wizard with unease. She had always had Khayl to protect her and teach her. Now they were just going to be separated? The days ahead were beginning to seem hollow already.

Khayl and Katie silently followed Gandalf up the winding stairs of the inn and along a long corridor, eyeing the number on each door as they passed.

"Ah! Here we are, number fourteen," Gandalf said happily before knocking on the door with the end of his staff. There was a sudden silence inside the room before the person huffed and moved to the door, stomping loudly. The door creaked agonisingly as it opened and they were soon faced with their first real look at a normal dwarf.

"Gandalf," he said sullenly. Khayl couldn't tell if the attitude came from this meeting or if he was usually like this. His thick silver and black beard covered half his face like a bear that had gotten lost down there. His eyes however were small and dark, glittering as they danced among the three of them, not missing a thing.

"May we come in, Argo?" Gandalf said with a little force, seemingly to remind the dwarf of his manners.

"If you must."

The inside of the room was dingy but warm and Mikhayla couldn't help but notice that this dwarf was even shorter than she was by a good inch or two. His limbs were all thickly muscled and he moved with a kind of strength that made Khayl uneasy. Her father had moved like that when he was younger, back when he been exclusively sheering rams on the stations. It was a strength born of hard labour and a powerful character.

"Typically, the visitor introduces themselves first." Came Argo's rough voice, though Khayl sensed a slight smile behind it.

"Apologies, Master Argo, I am Katie Coulter." Katie firmly dug her elbow into Mikhayla's side as she stepped forward to introduce herself, though as she was now several inches taller it was all the more uncomfortable.

"And I am Khayl-" She forced herself to stop, realising that she couldn't in fact introduce herself as Katie's relative. She bit back the words, leaving a sour taste in her mouth.

"Argo. Son of Burgo at your service," he said, bowing low with a practiced ease that made Khayl suddenly feel inadequate. She hid it though and looked at Gandalf fleetingly. "How can I help you, Gandalf?" The dwarf asked, also turning his attention to the wizard.

"I need ask of you an immense favour, my friend." With that he went and sat with Argo on the far end of the room, but not before the dwarf offered the women food which was gladly accepted.

"I'll miss you, you know," Katie said after a moment as she tore apart a bread roll. "It'll be weird not having you there to watch out for me."

"I'm sure by now you can watch out for yourself, Katie. You're more than capable." Khayl didn't want to admit how much she would also miss her cousin, her best link to home. If she did it would make the separation nigh unbearable.

"So, what story is Gandalf telling this guy?" Katie asked. "I mean he can't exactly tell him the truth – can he?"

"He sort of is. He's telling him that I was raised by a human family which, in essence, is the truth. But we're not telling him that I _was _human." Khayl informed her, picking at the stew. "What do you think of him?"

"He scares me a little," Katie admitted quietly, fixating her gaze upon the food. Khayl snorted quietly.

"You're not the one who's going to be stuck with him. But he doesn't seem scary, just different."

They both stopped talking as Gandalf and Argo stood and moved back over to them. Khayl raised her eyebrows as the dwarf stopped in front of her and seemed to ponder his words carefully. Trying to avoid the awkwardness she focused instead on the beads and clasps that were braided into his beard and hair. They were fascinating and Khayl couldn't help but hope it was a dwarf thing and not an individuality statement.

"So you were raised by humans…" he began, almost awkwardly.

"Yes…"

"And know nothing about your dwarf roots?"

"…yes…" She replied. Argo growled beneath his breath and turned to Gandalf sharply. The old wizard watched him with hooded eyes.

"And _you _want _me_ to teach _her_ everything? Everything that a dwarf would spend their entire lives learning?"

"She's a fast learner,"

"How do you know?" Khayl interjected, only to be silenced by a glance from Gandalf who otherwise ignored her.

"Besides, she will work hard to earn her keep," the old wizard shot a long stern look at Argo. "I need you to do this, both her and for me, Argo. She cannot survive in this world on her own." Khayl tried to restrain the scowl that splashed across her face and merely leaned back in her chair haughtily.

"I _do _need a new apprentice," The other dwarf mused quietly for a moment. "I will take her on as an apprentice and teach whatever she needs to know. However I must know how long she is to remain with me?"

"However long you deem fit so that she is capable of living a true dwarf's life. Perhaps less if something crops up between now and then." Khayl resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands as her life looked as though it was taking even more unpredictable and uncontrollable turns. Instead she glanced at Katie who shot her a weak but encouraging smile. Instantly, Khayl felt horrible. She had been so caught up in her own life and her own troubles that she hadn't given a moment's consideration to what was going to happen to Katie. But she couldn't very well ask about it at that moment with Argo hovering about looking increasingly grumpy.

They ate the rest of the meal in virtual silence before Gandalf stood and beckoned to Katie. Khayl realised with a sudden jolt that the time had come for goodbyes and yet all she could do was stare absently at her cousin.

"I'll see you soon?" Katie said uncertainly, though it came out as more of a question.

"Of course," Khayl was painfully aware of how Argo was watching the young women standing at the door awkwardly and knew she couldn't move to embrace her cousin tightly, to hold onto her as if that would make everything seem more real. Instead they smiled sadly at each other and Katie placed a hand on Khayl's shoulder, gripping it tightly for a moment before she turned and left the room, trying to conceal the tears that sprang to her eyes unbidden. Khayl stared after her even after that door had closed, wondering all the while if she would ever see any member of her family again.

When she turned back around she saw a pile of heavy woollen blankets had been placed in the corner on a bare stretch of floor. A pillow was haphazardly tossed across the room to thump on top of the pile.

"Appreciate what rest yeh can get," Argo grumbled. "From now on you'll do your learning from dawn, then work, then more learning until I say stop." Khayl merely nodded in agreement as the older dwarf laid down the laws.

"When you're working you'll stay in the back of the forge where I put yeh. Always wear your hood in public and give no indication that you're female-"

"Why not?"

"Because most people don't know of the existence of female dwarves and since there're so few of yeh we'd like to keep it that way." Argo seemed to be taking his mentoring role with a pinch of salt as her responded to her without so much as blinking an eyelid.

"Why're there so few female dwarfs?" Khayl asked, the question springing to her lips unbidden.

"It's just the way it's always been. No one really knows why." Argo looked marginally perturbed at the thought, as though he had never wondered such a thing before. Mikhayla, on the other hand, was thinking back to those biology lessons about X and Y chromosomes and wondered if she had changed in many other ways than could be seen. "Now, sleep."

With a willing heart, Khayl tossed out the blankets and succeeded in making some sort of nest in the corner while Argo lay down in his bed with a huff. Khayl thought it weird that she was sleeping not two metres from a complete stranger, a grown man nonetheless, and she didn't feel the slightest bit uncomfortable. Argo, though older and crotchety, had presence about him that made the newly-made she-dwarf feel secure. Despite his grizzled appearance and not-so-endearing manner he had taken her in when he had no reason to whatsoever. He took her babyish questions and so far hadn't ridiculed her once. He reminded her of her father with his stern words and salt and pepper beard.

Nestling into the scratchy woollen blankets, Khayl smiled at the thought that she might actually have a place in this world for the time being, that someone could finally give her answers.

**A/N Well, this chapter couldn't have been more painful to write if I actually tried. I'm really sorry that this actually took pretty much forever. School kind of just grabbed me in a headlock with mid-year exams etc and then I was writing out the story in a notebook and never actually got around to typing them up… I know, I suck, but here it is at last! And hopefully with none of the simply atrocious spelling mistakes that littered the previous chapters.**

**Anyway, thanks for reading and don't forget to leave a review. (Pretty please?)**

**XO**

**EquusGold **


	5. Chapter 5 Four Years On

Time passes quickly when your life is full to bursting. More often than she could believe, Khayl was so dead bone tired and yet so ridiculously busy that sleep rarely mattered to her anymore. Her body felt stronger than it ever had and her mind was twice as sharp. Before she knew it, four years had up and crawled away from her grasp.

Argo was a good mentor to have. He was quick to criticise and slow to praise. He was patient but stern and somewhat temperamental. He kept to himself, reserved from the outside world and the people in it. He avoided dwarves just as often as the humans and he wouldn't go within spitting distance of wherever there may be an elf. He taught her how to smith, first horseshoes and simple metal rods. Than he taught her how to craft more elaborate items and within the first year her dedication was finally paying off. She could forge a sword as well as the best of them and the jewellery she crafted was more intricate with every passing day. With two hands to work the forges as they travelled from town to town the coin began to flow into their pockets and soon they were doing better than Argo had for a long time on his own.

The forge was like a second home to her. In any town or city only the forges were the same and that seemed fairly important to Khayl as Argo had no permanent home; he simply travelled constantly in search of work.

The older dwarf valued her learning far more highly than anyone she had ever met, and she had to wonder if it was through his promise to Gandalf or through some sort of affection to Khayl. Perhaps it was both, or neither. Every morning he taught her about the language, how to read it and write it, and the culture of their people. He taught her how to braid her hair and the different meanings behind it. The braids she settled on were representative of an outsider, someone who didn't belong, and he applauded her forthrightness when she told him of her design. He only suggested a change in one part and bought her some golden ribbon at the next town they stopped at. He showed her how to forge her own clasp, how to craft her name in runes upon its surface. He showed her how to dress appropriately for a she-dwarf on the road and working a forge.

All of this she excelled in. The language, though rough and awkward at first, rolled easily from her tongue. Khuzdul it was called and the dwarves had runes for writing it, though she was delighted to discover that they also wrote in normal English as well (called Common or Westron in that strange new world). She found a real affinity among crafting – something she had failed miserably at as a human – and her blade skills improved day by day until she could spar at great length with Argo and not get her teeth knocked in or

It was a good life, she supposed, filled with the simple pleasures of living for the day as it would come. She settled easily into a routine and her admiration for her mentor bloomed as did a strange love for that rough and tough new world that she was slowly chiselling her own piece out of.

But as they say; all good things must come to an end, and there was a great darkness on the horizon, moving unseen by the common folk, but slowly its effects were becoming clear. Slowly things were changing, and not for the better.

**A/N A brief interlude, I swear. This marks the transition into the 'Middle-Earth' part of this story, which I am so incredibly pumped about. I was really discourage about the first few chapters because to me they just seemed really terrible, so if you have read this far than thankyou immensely and hopefully things should improve a decent bit from now on. Plus, ACTION! YAY!**

**Ehem, as I was saying, action coming soon! And then off to Ered Luin! And I will pre-warn everyone now, that this is not going to be some love-at-first sight whimsical fairy tale, and while Khayl may seem like she's totally awesome and got a hang of everything well … she's got to have some saving graces for when she messes with dwarf society –and dwarf heads (and hearts!) – so yes, she seems fairly skilled and perfect and wonderful now, but let's set the record straight right now … she's not! Muhahaha!**

**Sorry for the super long author's note, but I have been away from writing this for so long that I just had to get this off of my chest! Also, thankyou for each and every review, I treasure them all! They are seriously an addiction of some sort and even more so because they put me on a crazy writers high! So please keep 'em comin'. (I think this A/N is almost as big as the chapter… but that's what an interlude's for right?) Anyway, new chapter following hot on this one's trail!**

**As ever, please excuse stupid grammatical and spelling mistakes. I can't – rather ****_won't_**** – edit to save my life.**

**Loves**

**EquusGold**


	6. Chapter 6 The Setting Sun

It was late and Khayl was tired. She and Argo had worked relentlessly from dawn to try and complete an unexpected order of swords for a mercenary group. They had managed to finish the order and would be delivering first thing in the morning, before another hard day of work yielded itself to them. But that was tomorrow, and today was already upon, though it was quickly fading away. Khayl rolled her cramped shoulders once, twice and then decided that a bath was certainly in order. She was stiff and she smelt like the business end of a pig; if that didn't call for a nice long soak then she wasn't sure what did.

She said as much to the innkeeper who had smiled good naturedly and sent one of her daughters scampering to draw a bath for the tired she-dwarf. Not that they knew she _was _a female, but that was another matter entirely. So Khayl sat and ate a steaming bowl of beef stew as she waited for the girl to return. By the time she did, the young dwarrowdam had almost fallen asleep over a tankard but a nudge and a word were all that was needed to send her on her way.

Khayl enjoyed a good bath, loved the way the scalding hot water enveloped her skin and how the steam rose up and made her head all foggy. Before she had come to this world her family hadn't owned a bath, so such a thing had been a rare occurrence usually enjoyed at a friend's house. But since then her hygiene regime consisted mainly of freezing cold streams or small washbasins. A bath was … most welcome indeed. So much so that she was rather half hearted in scrubbing the dirt from her body, the soot and sweat from the forge clinging to her in a most discouraging way when all she wanted to do was lay back and relax. So she did, hanging her head over the back of the tub and allowing her muscles to unravel one by one. Khayl sighed deeply and it was mere moments before her eyelids drooped and she dozed off, the warm water lulling her more effectively than any lullaby.

It was cold. That was the first thing Khayl noticed when she awoke. For a moment she wondered where on earth she was that she was lying about in her bare skin but then she moved a little and realised she was in water. She opened her eyes reluctantly, noting that she was still in the bath tub, water now long cold. She wondered exactly how long she had lain there for it seemed that even the candles had gone out. Grumbling quietly to herself, Khayl put her hands on the side of the tub and hauled herself to her feet, grimacing as her joints groaned in protest, having long since seized up in the chilled water.

Once she was out she wrapped herself firmly in the towel provided and shot a spiteful glance at the dormant embers of the fire that nestled innocently in the corner of the room. She had been there a lot longer than intended, clearly. She took her clean clothes and pulled them on, eagerly wrapping herself in her coat as her skin was once again exposed to the nippy night air. She even pulled on her socks and boots for the short walk back to her room, knowing that as soon as she stepped off the thick bathmat the floorboards would be toe-bitingly cold.

She padded out into the hall and looked left and right, noting with dismay that here wasn't a single lantern lit and that no sounds could be heard from the inn below. The only sounds she could hear were those of restless sleepers and formidable snorers. So she worked her way down to her room and slipped inside, silently grateful that she was no longer so dependent that she had to share a room with Argo.

Khayl didn't go straight back to bed however; her joints were too stiff and her mind had gradually woken up so that no she knew she couldn't sleep even if she wanted to. Instead she lit the fire and stoked it for a short while before moving to the window and drawing back the curtain.

Obviously it was colder than she though as the young she-dwarf watched a lazy trickle of snowflakes twirl down from the sky. Khayl shivered just watching as it sprinkled down over the sleepy little town. It was quite picturesque really, but Khayl couldn't help the shudder of revulsion that passed through her. One thing that she had certainly retained from her life as a human was her intolerance for cold. Argo had listed it as at a 'human' level before shaking his head and buying her a thick fur coat. It wasn't her fault really. Where she grown up it was rarely noticeably cold, and if it was people stayed inside, away from it. She didn't have that luxury here however, where the cold was virulent and permeated everything like a plague. Heat she could handle, but the cold was another story. Argo, after the initial bout of teasing that ensued, had adjusted his plans to accommodate his more 'sensitive' companion after that. He had also walked away from that conversation with a split lip, though it did little to knock the insolent smile from his face.

As it was though, it was now cold, dark and late so Khayl went through a complex set of stretches that consisted mostly of Pilate's movements. It was effective, warming her up, getting the kinks out and settling her mind so that when she slumped into bed afterwards she was as relaxed as she had been in the bath tub.

She was curled tightly in the blankets and just on the verge of sleep when a strange feeling tickled the back of her neck as the hairs there rose. Such a feeling was enough to bring Khayl back to wakefulness though she didn't know what to attribute the sensation to. Another sensation was crawling through the pit of her stomach and an old human instinct crawled back to the surface. _Lie still, don't move! The danger will pass! If it can't see you, it can't hurt you! _It screamed at her, but she pushed such a childish notion to the back of her mind and slipped out of the bed, her eyes scanning the darkness, cutting through the shadows and marking out any possible threats, her hand wrapped around the hilt of the knife that was always hidden somewhere on her person.

It soon became clear however that there was no threat in the immediate vicinity, but the anxiety that was crawling all over her skin like a pack of ants refused to let up. Khayl reached for her weapons and strapped them on, the small war axe resting in her palm. For the second time that night Khayl moved to the window and pulled back the curtain, taking in the scene beyond.

At first glance it seemed that nothing had changed, that everything was still as peaceful as it had been before, but the sensation that something was_ wrong _refused to let up and she let her keen eyes slip over the calm exterior of the town once again, searching for something but not knowing what.

The feminine scream rent the air at the same moment that Khayl spotted the hazy orange glow creeping over the roofs of the houses across the street so she wasn't exactly sure which one of these caused her eyes to widen and her blood to chill. Then there was movement at the end of the street; movement that consisted of people running from their homes in terror. More screams where joining the first until the previously still night air was being rent by a cacophony of shrieking sounds.

Khayl turned and ran from the room and turned, about to enter Argo's room when the door swung open and he ran straight into her.

"Orcs," he spat at the dwarrowdam's wide eyed expression. "We have to help these people. Stay close to me." Khayl simply nodded and followed, pounding on each of the inns doors as they passed, hopefully waking the other patrons within. But they didn't stop to find out. The only one that they ensured was awake was the innkeep and her kin before they kept running down the stairs and out on to the main street.

"Stay close to me!" Argo reiterated and Khayl bared her teeth in a snarl, ready for what was undoubtedly to come. The streets were chaos now, people running from every direction and screams assailing their ears so fiercely they felt liable to burst. But all that was pushed to the back of Khayl's mind as she focused on her primary objective; survive. There was a jolt of fear in her gut, to be certain, but she ignored it, locking it up tight and throwing away the key. Fear had no place within her at this moment. But it did help kick the adrenaline into gear and for that she was grateful, even though she didn't notice that she was chasing Argo down the main street _towards _the orcs until one of the foul creatures launched at her with a blood chilling roar.

Khayl moved in accordance, the actions coming so instinctively that they didn't even register in her mind. All she knew was that the sword in her hand – how _had _that gotten there? – leapt forth with a whistling cry and then the orc had no head, its body crumpling and twitching convulsively. She couldn't even begin to guess where the head had gone.

The young she-dwarf stared at the now-still corpse with something akin to revulsion coiling within her. She had never killed a sentient creature before…even if it was only an orc. She had killed many animals, skinned them and gutted them, even before she had come to this world, and she was startled to find that killing the orc had seemed even _less _difficult. The animals she had killed had been innocent, naïve, acting as nature intended, but this orc had come at her with a dark, insidious intent, the intent to kill, and she found herself not giving it a second thought as she stepped over the body and searched for the next opponent. Perhaps her nonchalance was the reason the revulsion had gripped her, or maybe it was the slick black blood that coated her blade, looking for all the world like ink but smelling like sewerage.

She moved back towards Argo who swung his own blade, immense as it was, in enormous looping arcs that detached limbs and sprayed black blood with a ferocity that was as enthralling as it was terrifying. Khayl didn't move too close in case her mentor mistook her for an orc and it was then her head sailing through the air like a volley ball. She was rather _attached _to her head after all.

Khayl let loose a fierce cry as she flourished her blade, challenging the orcs that seemed to crowd into the narrow street, some dropping from the rooftops above. All were eager to taste dwarf-flesh when the morning came at last, it seemed. But they hesitated, none of them wishing to be first in line to get a taste of the dwarvish steel that danced in the moonlight.

"Well, what're ya waitin' for?" Khayl snarled at the same moment that Argo bellowed: "I haven't got all night, bloody _rakh__â__s! [orcs]" _

**A/N Bit of a weird chapter just to set the scene of Khayl in her new life before I throw the action at you by the bucketful! (Yay action!) Also, I would love to know some head cannons concerning the dwarves – especially females, obviously, but I'm not choosy– and if anyone could help me out with that it would be greatly appreciated.**

**As ever please forgive the stupid grammatical and spelling mistakes because I type like someone taped my fingers together… and my mind rambles faster than my fingers can follow. Please review anyway though, it truly means the world to me! Even if you just mention what part or line you may have like or whatever.**

**Thanks, **

**EquusGold**


	7. Chapter 7 Unto the Dawn

The orcs snarled ferociously at them, baring hideously fanged teeth and screaming in their own language which grated on the ears like finger nails on a chalkboard. They were a single writhing, many teeth, yellow-eyed monster that seemed to swell in the street before the defenders.

Khayl wished for her armour then, full, strong plate armour would be especially nice, something more than her cured leather vest and metal gauntlets. But that wasn't liable to happen anytime soon so her sword would have to be both her offense and defence, the way Argo had taught her. But all of those teachings suddenly seemed irrelevant in the face of roiling mass of enemies that faced them. How were two supposed to survive so many, let alone prevail?

Argo seemed not to bear the same self-doubts that plagued his apprentice, for he roared out another challenge, throwing back his head and bearing his teeth in a feral grin. The bloodlust was upon him and he didn't hesitate as he charged forward into the prickling exterior of that black monster, knocking aside the rough swords and axe's that the orcs favoured, his own sword cleaving through their flesh like molten metal.

Khayl knew that she couldn't leave him to face this threat alone, for he would never have abandoned her. So as much as her instincts screamed at her to run, to hide and wait until the sun came out, her heart knew what truly must be done. So with a scream of her own she dashed forward knocking aside a sword and forcing her weapon into the soft flesh at the base of the throat. The creature gurgled as the she-dwarf tore her blade free, instantly swinging around to counter a sneaky strike that had lurched out of the darkness towards her unprotected back.

She spun free of it and lessened the orcs height considerably before a spear grazed past her shoulder, leaving a bloody furrow that was as long as her hand and spewed forth hot, crimson fluid. The sight of her own life force leaking down her arm and coating the orcs weapon drew forth a strange and primitive feeling within her that had her baying for retribution.

When it jabbed at her again she moved quickly, like a viper, and caught the shaft between an upthrust of her gauntlet and the downward blow of her sword, snapping the wood like the pitiful twig it was. Her blade whipped upwards mid-movement and sliced from his armpit to the opposite clavicle, sternum and heart both decimated by the well-honed blade. Another of the creatures bellowed and leapt forward, forgoing weapons all together. He managed to rake his claws against the lower edge of her chin, his teeth going for the throat, but an arrow sprouted from his temple at the same moment that Khayl's dagger darted out and shredded his abdomen. She still stumbled under his weight and momentum but managed to use it in a powerful throw that launched him into an enemy moving for Argo. The two went down and the she-dwarf used the momentary respite to glance for her saviour.

A boy, perhaps thirteen, was standing to one side of the street, away from the bulk of the fighting, and firing arrows almost impossibly quick. His companion was bigger, slightly older and wielded a woodcutter's axe. But despite the makeshift weapon his strength allowed him to decimate all orcs who dared to approach the two. They fought with a desperation that made a rage like she had never known blossom in Khayl's stomach. This was their home, and they were so young and fighting for their lives against an enemy that wanted nothing more than to relieve them of their heads and gorge themselves on their flesh.

Khayl gave a roar that hurt and tore at her throat, but sounded not too dissimilar to the one that Argo used to echo her. Red rose up and misted her vision and an untold strength coursed through her veins, begging her to use it, and to kill.

Her sword whistled through the air with blinding speed, ending any and all that dared to confront her. She knew now why Argo had seemed so fearless in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds. This power, this strength … it made her _invincible_. She didn't feel the myriad of small cuts, bruises and scratches that marred her skin, didn't notice the pain when one of orcs had tackled her, sending her crashing to the ground, the sound of her shoulder screaming bizarrely muted. The smash of a shield to her temple staggered her, dazed her, but she fought on still, pushing all feeling to the back of her mind. Sensation had no place within her at that time.

The young dwarrowdam did, however, feel when Argo's hand clamped around hers, an ice cold feeling tingling up her arm, burning away the fire that seemed to dull all other senses. He jerked her back several stiff and reluctant steps. Each step away from the fight dulled that overwhelming feeling of nothingness, that lust for blood and destruction. When he saw her eyes had cleared slightly her leaned in and yelled square in her face.

"We've done all we can here! There are more coming! If we don't leave now, we die!"

"We're going to RUN!?" Khayl shrieked, still buried deep enough within the blood lust to be totally enraged at this turn of events.

"Most of the townspeople are gone! Now it's our turn!" Khayl took a quick look around her and noted that what he said was true. The streets were utterly empty save for the few men who had remained behind to continue fighting, to buy their loved ones time.

Khayl snarled and turned on her heel, feeling Argo follow. Together they ran through the streets, ending any orcs that dared to cross their paths. They ran back into the inn and sprinted up the tall, Mannish stairs, bursting into each of their rooms respectively. In her own room, Khayl threw open the closet and hurriedly pulled off her coat and slipped a second, heavier tunic over her head before tugging on her leather vest, the iron scales across the back and clustered on the chest glinting softly in the firelight. Then her coat was back on and her sword sheath, quiver and bow where strapped to her back. Knives were in her boots and her favourite on the strap across her chest, her hand axe hanging at her left hip. She also grabbed for her coin purse and water skin, fastening them to her broad belt even as she ran back out the door.

The dwarrowdam spun into Argo's room, reflexively catching the satchel he tossed at her before both dwarves leapt back down the stairs. Khayl was halfway, ahead of Argo, when a dark, misshapen face appeared followed by a massive, scarred body as the figure ascended the stairs. The orc glanced up in time to see Khayl's boot swing out into its face as she jumped at it but then they were both falling back, clunking on each wooden step with a racket that would wake the dead.

Having reduced her momentum on impact, Khayl didn't tumble as far as the orc but she was still moving quite fast when she came to a jolting stop on her back, her head facing towards the base of the stairs where a dark figure was sprawled. The same dark figure pulled itself up and sneered at her, blood dripping from its face from the collision with her iron toed boot. Khayl wriggled fiercely and awkwardly but her bow had somehow become jammed between the wall and one of the steps and she couldn't work it free for the position she was in. She could only watch as the orc worked its way back up towards her, a viciously hooked blade in its hand. But then something whistled past her legs and one of Argo's knives buried itself within the creature's forehead, causing it to fall back, stone dead, with a dull echoing thud.

Argo leapt past her on the stairs, grabbing Khayl's foot in passing and using it to pull her heels over head, her bow scraping against the stairs with a pitch that made her wince. She tried to halt the motion once she was right side up once more, but the law of Inertia had other ideas and Khayl came to a graceless stop at the foot of the stairs, once more sprawled on her back, draped over the corpse of the orc.

She sniffed as she pulled herself upright and shot a look of utter disgust at the corpse and then turned it upon Argo.

"That was uncalled for."

"In my opinion," he said as he moved towards the main door, scanning the corners for more threats. "It just goes to show how easily an accident can get you killed." Noticing that he was ignoring her more than disgruntled statement Khayl muttered a few very choice words in Khuzdul that had Argo smirking over his shoulder at her.

"You should have seen your face!" he smiled as pushed the door open marginally, the din of battle filtering in through the opening. "You looked like a beetle trapped upon its shell!"

"I'm glad you're amused." Khayl commented dryly, a wry smirk touching her face as her mind conjured images of what she must indeed have looked like. But that was not the time for wandering thoughts and she steeled herself once again as she followed Argo out of the door and into the mostly deserted streets.

Khayl closed her ears to the sounds of the battle that raged behind them, clogging the town centre. The screams of the men coupled with the shrieking of orcs and incessant clash of iron made her want to turn back and tear the foul creatures apart with her bare hands but she pushed those thoughts aside. She didn't want to die, not really, and so the human part of her was very selfishly grateful that they were escaping and leaving others to cover for them. It was the strong sense of loyalty and honour that defined her character that made every step she took feel like a personal defeat. But that was why Gandalf had said she was turned into a dwarf in the first place, so she imagined that Argo was feeling exactly the same way in that respect.

It was then, as they were passing out of the outskirts of the town, that Khayl realised they weren't on the Western side where the rest of the townspeople had fled to. When the orcs had come from the East and South the people had fled West where the danger was least. Khayl and Argo were on the North-West side of town and Argo showed no signs of circling around. Confused and slightly frustrated the young dwarrowdam stopped short watching sternly as her mentor continued on a few metres before realising she was no longer with him. Argo turned back, a questioning glint in his eye that was only visible through the thin streams of moonlight that snuck through the thick canopy above them.

"Where are we going?" Khayl snapped. "Why are we not going back to the rest of the townspeople?" her tone was hard and sharp as shards of glass and she saw a hesitant look on Argo's face. No, not hesitant –wary.

"I've told you already, we cannot do anymore for these people," seeing the rising glare and argument upon his young apprentices face Argo hurried onwards. "But there are other towns nearby and we need to thing of the majority." He watched Khayl's face as she methodically digested this information.

"So we're going to warn the other towns?" she presumed, rubbing the back of her hand against the small dusting of beard on her chin.

"No, only the ones we pass very close to." Argo seemed to believe that the she-dwarf had regained enough of her senses not to sporadically attack him or run off and resumed jogging quickly through the dense trees.

"Pass? Where are we going?" Khayl's annoyance was rapidly rising in response to Argo's less than satisfactory answers.

"To Ered Luin, to the halls of Thorin Oakenshield, King-in-Exile of Durin's folk." He could see the question forming on Khayl's lips so he ploughed on. "It's the only place we will find a force strong enough to combat those orcs. We could warn every village and town on this side of the world but they will still be helpless, warned or no."

Khayl was silent for several long moments and when he glanced at her he found he could see naught of her expression given the shadows that were rapidly rippling over her features as they moved. So he waited for her to say something, anything for, though he would never admit it, he was uncertain and uneasy with this course of action. He could be unintentionally sacrificing hundreds of people to death. He just wanted someone to confirm that what he was doing _was _right, or at least for them to drag him away from this plan before he could do too much damage.

Khayl would do one or the other, he knew that, and she would make the decision based on a cold, clinical calculation rather than a hot-headed, heartfelt, spur-of-the-moment action. It was one of these moments that he missed being in the army, always with someone else to make the hard, necessary decisions. Back then all he had to do was follow orders and kill enemies and that had suited him just fine. Responsibility could be stifling, he mused as he continued to wait for Khayl's response.

"I… I understand. That will be for the best," As hard as she tried to hide it, Khayl's uncertainty was more than apparent in her voice and though her choice of words were in agreement with him he was not at all comforted.

"Ered Luin it is then." He said, trying to contain his sigh.

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**A/N Well, this chapter was fun for a while. And it did sort of get edited so yay! (by edited I mean I went back and beefed it up and read through it a little, fixing a couple of blemishes ) but other than that here is Chapter Seven. As you can probably tell I enjoy writing action and am currently playing with the idea of 'bloodlust' like a berserker. But I am more using the bloodwrath outlined in Brian Jacques ****_Redwall _****series that is experienced by the Badger Lords (still my all-time favourite book series!) . So that's where that comes from. I also just wanted to have someone (Khayl) fall down some stairs and things just kind of snowballed from there. I don't like stairs. **

**Aaaand it's really late and I'm really tired and this will be uploaded on the morrow when the internet decides to return… so written at night, uploaded at day… I don't even know anymore…**

**Anyway, please review because I get sad if people don't and it truly just makes my day when someone writes even a handful of words for me to moon over while I forge out my next chapter. As of now I do have a reasonable plan of where everything's going so hopefully the sailing will be smoother from here on in. **

**Thanks to Dalonega Noquisi for your review, it made me smile. A lot. Also special thanks to Marina Oakenshield because it's just nice to know that you're still there! Also to all of my new followers… welcome! **

**Thanks for reading! It means the world! **

**EquusGold **


	8. Chapter 8 On the Run

Argo grabbed Khayl's arm and yanked her towards him and the two dwarves skidded and half fell down a steep rocky incline with minimal grace, a cascade of dirt and shale accompanying them. Khayl was back on her feet within an instant but Argo's grip on her forearm hadn't lessened and he pulled her back flush with the rock face as a spear whistled past them and impaled the turf where she had been about to place herself.

This time it was Argo who ran forward, plucking the spear out of the ground and whirling in one movement, the weapon leaving his grasp and sailing several feet before a strangled cry spoke of a direct hit.

"Bow!" Argo snarled and the young dwarrowdam didn't hesitate for even the briefest of moments, the old horse bow already in hand and an arrow nocked. She followed her mentor and stepped out of the protection the steep incline had offered her arm drawing back until her knuckles were flush with her cheekbone, her eyes scanning rapidly for the target and its weaknesses.

There were two orcs up there and Khayl made a split second decision that hopefully wouldn't get anyone killed. She let the arrow fly without hesitation and watched grimly as it arced through the air so fast that the eye couldn't follow. The second orc which stood marginally further back from the other took the arrow straight between the eyes and, though its head jerked back on impact, its body fell forward and crashed into the other, which was in mid-motion, about to throw another spear.

Both of them tumbled forward, the first orc already considerably unbalanced and the second was nothing more than a dead weight. They fell in a tangle of limbs and the spear disappeared into the medley rather than impaling either of the dwarves. When they sprawled at the base of the incline Argo leapt forward with his sword to deal a killing blow to the first orc but neither of the creatures stirred. A quick inspection showed two stone-dead orcs; the first with the broken shaft of the arrow firmly embedded between its eyes and the second with the snapped spear jammed through it from front to back and a shard of wedged into the back of its skull.

Argo grunted in satisfaction and turned away to catch Khayl smirking at him, smugness evident in her expression.

"You thought I missed." She accused, jabbing her bow towards him even as the corner of her mouth kicked up showing the dimples there and the small ones beneath her eyes. Over the past three days killing orcs had become significantly more acceptable for her though he had to wonder if the nonchalance she had now adopted towards the act was entirely healthy.

"Never." Argo denied, shaking his head and turning away from her, pretending to scan the top of the ridge for more enemies though all he was really doing was hiding the amused grin that sprung to his own lips.

"Liar," he could practically hear Khayl rolling her eyes at him and poking her tongue out in that impudent gesture she though he'd never seen directed towards himself. "You should know by now that I never miss."

"Of course not." He humoured her, turning back now that he had his face firmly under control. He had learnt long ago that it was foolish for him to get angry at her self-confidence which more often than not came across as the type of arrogance few people can stand. It wasn't that really, he told himself as they moved back towards the small camp they had been keeping when Khayl had spotted the orcs while out hunting. She wasn't arrogant really, and she didn't think herself above others as she oft seemed to. It had taken almost the entirety of the time she had been with him to learn that it was a type of humour as well as a type of self-defence, a way of staying reserved from other people, to keep them at arms-length.

Once Argo had learned this it had been a simply matter to accept it and realise that, young though she may be and seemingly clueless of much of the world, she had experienced much at some point, and it had left her scarred. He had seen a similar expression in the eyes of some of the survivors of Azanulbizar, and that made it all the easier to relate to this strange female. These were thoughts running through Argo's mind as he followed her swaying copper braid whilst jogging through the forest.

He also took a moment to ponder the peculiar turn their relationship had taken since he had come to these realisations. For the last five years everything had been strictly master and apprentice – though he had taken up the title of 'mentor' rather than master due to some strange ill will that Khayl held towards the word – but now they were closer, speaking less of facts and strategies and more of … well just _more _in general about life and emotions and other usually uncomfortable topics. He wondered if she saw _him _differently… they felt more of a family now than just friends or companions, he found himself treating her like a strange cross between a daughter and a niece.

Hark, he realised now, he treated her like he would treat his own nieces if they were under his constant care and tutelage. Such a revelation wasn't altogether shocking as people who spent vast amounts of time together would inevitably form attachments of some kind, but it both unsettled and comforted Argo at the same time. Yet still his mind wondered, almost agonisingly, if she felt the same kinds of familial attachment… he would have to broach the subject some time, no matter how uncomfortable.

"Argo?" Khayl's voice called softly as she looked back the direction she had come, paused in the centre of their tiny camp, the two horses enthusiastically mowing grass off to one side. The older dwarf had slowed considerably at some point and appeared to be within deep though, his salt and pepper beard wagging side to side as it did when he mulled over a particularly dastardly conundrum. He glanced up quickly, pausing in his thoughts and then realised how absent he had been from the world for a good long moment. He scowled and Khayl couldn't help but crack a smile at the change of expression. "Welcome back to the world, Mister Argo, we missed you."

Argo rolled his eyes at her teasing words and stomped into the camp, throwing a heap of clumped dirt atop the still smouldering embers of their fire in an effort to smother it and prevent a forest fire, which would most definitely give away their position to any orcs who may have still been tracking them. When they had escaped the town and made their way North-West toward the Ered Luin a number of orcs had picked up their trail and gave pursuit, reluctant to let anyone escape and spread news of their presence. Khayl had at that point realised that the orcs were far more cunning than she had previously believed which was a slightly stomach turning revelation in itself.

But the constant threat had kept them on their toes, always moving and always defending when one of the myriad of small groups caught up to them. It had to be wondered if orcs had any organisation skills whatsoever though, given the displacement of the groups that pursued them, despite how intelligent they may actually be. It wore the two dwarves down though and they rarely had an opportunity to stop for a rest. When they did it was fractured and restless for most every time they had stopped for even fifteen minutes they had been attacked. It made sleep impossible and food was painfully scarce with next to no opportunities to stop and hunt or forage. Their mounts were suffering just as much, only being able to graze for a few minutes a day and almost constantly bearing weight. The saddles hadn't been removed for almost three days and the poor animals looked just as haggard as their riders.

"Ready to go?" Argo called and Khayl looked up from where she had been admiring the non-existent contents of her water skin. She nodded in affirmation and tightened the girth on Prour's saddle noting with a grim look that she was pulling it tighter than she had ever done, in either world. She egretted having dragged him into all this, this world which was indeed harsh and especially hard on a 'beast of burden.' Once he had been a sport horse, an athlete, a champion and now he was resigned to walking for endless days and carrying loads like some mule. She supposed she could be eternally grateful that it had never dampened his personality or his intelligence, especially since it had been because of those things that he had returned to her innumerable times, like an old penny. That was she had encountered him in the wild a few hours after having left the town behind. Prour had come trotting through the trees like naught was amiss, his halter broken and a rope hanging limply from it. She presumed he had escaped his stall when the orcs came careened through the forest until he had scented something familiar; her. But that was just speculation and he had followed along faithfully as the two dwarves had moved rapidly to the next town.

hen they had arrived the town had been oblivious and disbelieving of the threat that was assuredly approaching from the South-East, but when a farmer stumbled through the gate ten minutes later with horrendous wounds and babbling about orcs overrunning the world they had speedily been presented a horse for Argo – which was far too large and made for an almost comical sight though he handled it well - and gear for Prour. They had been riding hard and fast since then and were – according to Argo – close to the halls of Thorin Oakenshield.

That was why they were now moving as quickly as possible over the rough terrain in the foothills. Both horses were spurred on with renewed vigour, the short rest having down wonders for both their energy and temperament. Then they came bursting out of the trees and paused atop a broad stretch of … well, road. It was the first proper road Khayl had seen during her rather long sojourn in Middle Earth. Everywhere else a supposed road had been little more than a track or a clear piece of land filled with muddy holes and wagon ruts. This road spoke of architecture and civilisation, craftsmen and builders. It was a simply reminder of home, one that made her heart soar even as pain tugged at that particular space in her chest. And yet, it was just a road, nothing more than an open space that had been hardened and flattened. It didn't have tarmac or street signs, it wasn't even paved or cobbled, but such a thing was strangely familiar to one who had lived all of her life in rural lands.

Khayl became aware of someone calling her name and had to physically shake her head in order to banish such unwelcome thoughts of home. She looked at Argo who stared back quizzically, seemingly torn between laughter and concern for her mental health. The she-dwarf-who-was-once-a-human-and-is-now-somewhat-genealogically-confused shook her head again, scowling at her companion before spurring her horse on, with him right beside her.

They had only gone several metres when there was a rending of foliage and both dwarves pulled the horses to a halt glanced back, seeing the one thing they had been dreading most on their flight towards the Ered Luin. Wargs.

There were four of them, three of them carrying riders whilst the fourth was slightly smaller, rangier, but looked even more malicious than the others, if such a thing was possible. Khayl flicked her gaze to Argo and saw him staring back at the wargs and orcs, face pinched. The moment seemed to drag on and on and they seemed at an impasse for the moment, neither side moving to strike.

Khayl knew that the orcs were desperate if they had come this far onto dwarf land in order to stop them, and that meant that they had to warn the owners of said land, and fast, so that as many lives as possible could be saved.

"Khayl," Argo called to her softly, before changing to the rough Khuzdul so that the orcs couldn't understand. "_Go, warn them_."

Khayl knew that he meant to remain behind and hold of the foul beasts since a horse, even one so fast as Prour, would be easily run into the ground by a warg. It made sense, but the dwarrowdam was already shaking her head, the logic skewed in her mind.

"_It must be you. I am a stranger, they will not believe me." _Her words were said in the fastest understandable Khuzdul that she could manage for the wargs and their riders were quickly becoming irate with the seemingly endless standoff. Argo shot a look to her, but she knew he could see the truth in what she said, no matter how grudgingly he would admit it. The only problem now is if he would trust in her abilities enough…

"_Be strong, my friend." _was his soft, resigned response. Khayl nodded to him and swung down easily from her saddle, pushing Prour after Argo and softly commanding him to follow the other horse. Then she turned back and drew her bow in a single deft movement. The orcs were watching them, anticipation clear in their eyes though there was puzzlement there also. That puzzlement turned to rage when they realised they were about to be cheated of their prey as Argo kicked his horse on into a flat-out, breakneck pace, not sparing a moment to glance over his shoulder.

Automatically two of the wargs leapt forward to give chase, but Khayl was fast on the draw and her first arrow caught one of the beasts in the chest, dropping it to the ground with a startled whine, whilst the other pierced the warg's feral yellow eye and caused it to crumple instantaneously. Both riders smashed into the dirt and seemed dazed by the sudden impact, so Khayl sent another arrow flying and killed one but then the other rider-bearing warg came bounding towards her and she was forced to drop her bow. She had no chance to go for her sword so she slipped her hand axe into her palm but the warg was moving far fast than she anticipated and a paw slammed into her chest, driving her into the ground like a pile driver. Khayl's arm shot out on instinct even as the wind was driven from her and the axe arced up, catching the beast in the back leg and sending it staggering away.

Khayl rolled to her feet and finally got her sword out, brandishing in her right hand while the other still grasped her axe, hot sticky blood clinging to the blade. She glanced around herself at the orcs and wargs that were now circling her with a clear intent. Internally she cursed herself, having only killed one orc and one warg. The others were all back on their feet, and slavering at her and baring teeth and weapons in her directions.

_What the Hell have I gotten myself into this time?_

**A/N Oooh Khayl, you're in trouble now girl! To be honest I had no idea this chapter was going to go like this, it just did. But on that note I have plenty of commendations to dish out to wonderful wonderful people! *rubs hands together eagerly***

**So with no further ado; thankyou ****_Ogregal_**** (Love your username!) ****_Marina_****_Oakenshield_**** (Your continued support is awesome!) ****_Dalonega_****_Noquisi_**** (I begin to look forward to your reviews, hope I live up to expectations!) ****_Ashi-Grey, Kitaluv, nienna14, vargas93, MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever_**** and ****_SarahDixon1215_**** for all of the reviews, favourites and follows! They mean everything to me and there would be no story without you guys! If I missed anyone, feel free to shout out!**

**I also so had a random thought that maybe I should clarify on the ages of Katie and Khayl in case anyone was thinking that they're teenagers or whatever. They were both nineteen at the beginning which makes them, what, twenty four at this point, so yeah; mature (sometimes) hope that clarifies! **

**Also, I have no idea when my next update will be as I am running low on credit for my phone which doubles as my internet money. I have no idea when I will be able to appease the matriarch of my household enough to garner more… so till next time, whenever that may be!**


	9. Chapter 9 Frantic

Through Their Eyes 14-08-2014

Chapter Nine: Frantic

Khayl took a very short moment to evaluate the situation she currently found herself embroiled in, then she immediately wished she hadn't.

The first problem was numbers; they had to clear and indisputable advantage there. Already they had her surrounded and if they all rushed in to overwhelm her it would be all too easy to miss something and wind up with a sword through her back.

The second issue? Location, location, location. She was standing in the middle of a _road, _for the love of all things Holy. There was no cliff or tree to put her back to, and again that made it far too simple for them to surround her, which is the last thing you ever want to happen in a fight.

Then there's the third and probably most important issue; Khayl was tired. She hadn't stopped to rest in over three days and that combined with a lack of food and water was most assuredly taking its toll at this point. Add to that the myriad of injuries she had sustained in recent days, none of which had been properly tended, and she was a veritable walking train-wreck. Her limbs felt leaden and her entire body ached but her mind was still sharp, and that she could certainly use to her advantage.

So when the first orc charged at her she ducked the sword swing and used her slower reactions to become more accurate with her movements, flicking her axe upwards in a controlled slice that rent flesh and muscle between its ribs and arms, but stopping the strike before it reached the bones that formed the shoulder joint, wrenching the blade free. In her current state there was no way she force the axe through the solid construct of the shoulder, but the blow as it was crippled the orc and set hot fountains of dark blood streaming forth.

The creature dropped back, screaming and flailing its blade, the pain clouding its judgement, making it easy to dodge in and drive her keen sword upwards through its ribs. Khayl pulled it free and whirled, ready for the next attack that was undoubtedly about to come for her. But none did.

Bewildered, Khayl scanned her opponents, watching for the slightest indication that any one of them was about to come after her. But they just kept circling, snarling over the loss of their comrade. The only remaining orc was growling and when a shiver went down Khayl's spine she realised that the guttural, primitive sounds were actually language. _Black speech…_

Whatever it was saying seemed to be holding the wargs in check though and for that Khayl was –though she would never in a million years admit it – slightly grateful. She was also feeling a small surge of relief as she noted that two of the wargs were limping heavily, their tongues lolling, and the one she had shot in the chest seemed to be having trouble breathing, if its unsteady rasps were any indication.

She kept her gaze focused on the orc mainly, for that was the one to expect a low, underhand trick from. The wargs were just animals, no matter how intelligent they may be. And animals were controlled by their instincts, making them predictable. The orc, however, was anything but. It chattered a short phrase in its native tongue, a cold wave passing over Khayl as it did so, and twirled its heavy mace lazily in its palms.

After a long moment of glaring at the orc, Khayl realised with blank shock that it had actually spoken to _her, _though it must've know she had no idea what it was saying. That didn't seem to bother the creature though, for it merely flipped the mace once more before raising and pointing the rough weapon at her, opening its mouth and addressing her in plain old English, which was perhaps even more terrifying than the incomprehensible tongue that had previously come spilling out of its mouth.

"You are a fool, dwarf," it hissed, making a strange clacking noise with its teeth. Its gnarled, malformed mouth twisted into something that may have been a feral grin with a little imagination. For a moment though it said nothing else, rolling its massive, muscle bound shoulders and taking a taunting step forward, giving Khayl a clear appreciation for just how large the Hell-spawn was. She thought that it was easily taller than most humans, and built like a veritable fortress. The young dwarrowdam was beyond certain that none of the other orcs she had faced had been anywhere near so large. "A skilled fighter, but a fool nonetheless."

Khayl was left wondering what this little exchange of words had gained the black-skinned orc as its mouth twisted into that thing that may have been a smile once again. Orc-kind weren't exactly ones to post-phone killing to have a menial chat.

But then there was a sudden movement behind her and Khayl spun, seeing that the three wargs had all come together behind her and were moving as one, leaping towards her with teeth bared and saliva spilling from the blood-red maws. She stumbled backwards three unsteady steps, instinctively raising her arm to defend herself, as futile as it may have been. But in her sudden panic, Khayl made a rookie's mistake and forgot about one of her opponents.

The mace that caught her in the side of the head was blessedly not barbed, so when it smashed into her with immense force she didn't lose half of her face. Instead she flopped awkwardly before the ground rushed up to meet her, something in her head rattling about uncomfortably as the two collided. There were black spots in her vision, and Khayl's stomach churned warningly.

For a long moment, she forgot about everything and contented herself with lying on the – ground? in numbness, not entirely sure where her body had gone off to. She wasn't aware of anything bar the intense ache behind her eyes. The rest of her had simply drifted off… she became fleetingly aware of her – fingertips? as something was - kicked? away from them. Her weapons…? But her mind was struggling to comprehend why she would have been needing weapons in the first place.

Then there was a new sensation, another fleeting one, as something grasped her – shoulder? tight enough to cause sparks of pain to shoot from that location up to … behind her eyes somewhere. She was rolled? Onto her back… but she wasn't sure. Her eyes wriggled and zoomed about without her permission, everything becoming a fuzzy, vibrating mess. But there was something… something she know… blue! The sky?

But then a black – figure? loomed above her, blocking out the –sky? and her vision followed the trend and rapidly turned black, the only thing she could hear was rough, chattering – laughter?

Argo didn't know what was thundering faster –his heartbeat of the rapid pace of the pony's hooves. He spared a quick glance behind him at the dozen grim-faced dwarf warriors who raced along behind him and vehemently hoped that they weren't too late. Khayl didn't deserve to die at the hands of some filthy orcs for the sake of some complete strangers. He hoped that he had been fast enough.

Upon leaving Khayl he had careened up the road and through the gates of the city, a little over four kilometres away. He had taken the main path through the outer city until he reached the formidable gates that defended the new halls of Durin's people. Fortunately one of the guards there had recognised him and it seemed only moments before he had been standing, panting, in front of Thorin Oakenshield and a small group of his guards and advisors, as well as a small smattering of nobles.

He had gasped out their story as quickly as possible, but it was truly thanks only to Thorin that they had gotten underway as quickly as they had. He had taken Argo's story at a glance – thank Mahal for their ever-enduring camaraderie - and delivered orders even as he marched into the main hall, his guards and advisors jogging to keep up. The guards, including Dwalin son Fundin, were all dispatched to gather the fastest of ponies and meet back at the main gates.

Then Thorin, son of Thrain, had turned to look at Argo square in the eye, and the smith had realised that the last time he had seen the dark-haired King, had been over forty years ago.

"You should remain here. See the healers, they will see to your wounds." But Argo was already shaking his head.

"I will not abandoned her, tired or not." He snapped back, though he tried to do so with at least some of the respect that the exiled king deserved. Thorin had merely gazed at him for a few moments with an inscrutable expression upon his face before nodding almost imperceptibly. He turned away from him then and moved down the hall, before turning a corner and being lost to sight, presumably to get his weapons and armour.

Argo had taken that as his cue to leave for the gates and did so, not sparing a glance for the nobles and advisors who had been abandoned there in the middle of the hall and seemed to be floundering in their confusion.

None of it had taken more than five minutes before they were all waiting at the gates. Thorin had been a mere ten-seconds later, sweeping in amongst them with a look of intense concentration on his face. All in all, Argo though it had been effectively done, though he shuddered to think how it may have gone had it another king in Thorin's place. There would have been several minutes of floundering, like the cotton-headed nobles, and then a summoning of a force far larger than necessary, taking too much time. The King-in-Exile was practical, a warrior through and through, and he knew when immediate action was called for. That he himself had joined them spoke volumes in and out of itself.

Argo forced himself to shake back such unproductive thoughts and memories and focused on the road ahead. There were a few more curves in the road, if he remembered correctly, and then a sharp bend and that was where he had left her.

The warrior-turned-smith refused to think that they may already be too late, that Khayl hadn't been able to hold out against the veritable wave of opponents that she faced. Four wargs and three orcs were serious, nigh on insurmountable odds for any dwarf, but all she had to do was survive. He wondered if she had made a stand, or if she had rushed for the tree line and shot at them with that bow of hers… but knowing Khayl she would have stood in the centre of the road and taken whatever came at her. It would have been the most effective way to keep their attention …

They rounded the sharp bend in the and Argo's heart leapt into his throat and very nearly out of his mouth, his eyes taking in the situation almost faster than his mind could process.

Khayl… she was lying almost in the very centre of the road, flat on her back and utterly motionless. From where he was he couldn't tell if she was still drawing breath but he prayed to Mahal, all of the other Valar and any other deities that she was. His blood boiled at the sight of the massive orc standing above her, its mace raised as though to deliver a final blow. It caught sight of the mounted dwarves, the jangling of harnesses, weapons and armour more than enough to give them away, and Argo swore that its eyes widened in shock. The wargs arrayed up it seemed frozen in shock.

But only for a moment, for as the dwarves through themselves off the ponies, two of the guards rushing forward to prevent them running off, the feral creatures snarled and two of them bounded forward. They were injured though; even a fool could see that, one limping heavily on its hind leg and the other with a shaft in its chest, crimson flights just visible through the matted fur. The dwarves stepped around them deftly, working as a flawless team, and drove hammers, axes and sword into the beasts. Argo delivered the killing blow to the one with the arrow, watching in grim satisfaction as it crumpled to the ground and shuddered heavily before lying still. He wrenched his blade out of its neck and spun to take on the orc, but it was no longer there.

There was no sign of the orc or the other warg, and Argo's mind flitted to the suspicion that they had fled from an unwinnable battle. He kept his blade close though, even as he charged towards Khayl, skidding on his knees to stop beside her head. Up close now he could see the unmistakeable rise and fall of her chest and he drew immense relief from that.

He tenderly placed his hands on either side of her face, grimly noting the blood and split skin that covered the right side of it. Khayl's eyes flickered at his touch before gradually levering themselves open. She stared at him in utter confusion for a moment, squinting heavily, before recognition settled over her features and a tiny smile tugged at one corner of her lips. Argo shook his head at her, featuring a wry smile of his own.

"Good to see you learned something after all," he said softly, before answering her unspoken plea to be helped into a sitting position. Some part of his heart was weeping at how very close to death she had been. "Take it easy now, where're you hurting?"

Khayl merely shot him a haughty look, which may have been more effective had her head not been covered in blood and her hair matted to that side of her scalp.

"Where d'ya think, genius?" were her words, and he couldn't help but grimace at the roughness in her voice, though the words helped ease his concern a little. Then Khayl looked up and took note of the figures surrounding her, before focusing on Thorin who stood watchfully at her feet. "I thank you for your aid."

"You are most welcome," was Thorin's response just as Khayl deemed herself fit to stand. She scrabbled to stand up, and Argo was concerned by the amount of weight she was putting on him as she did so, but once she was up she managed to stand on her own two feet without swaying too alarmingly. Once she was up, Argo noted for the first time that she was actually considerably tall by dwarf standards, about two inches shorter than Thorin and Dwalin, who had come to stand at his King's shoulder. He had always know she was taller than him, but then many dwarves were, and if he had to guess, he would say she was marginally under five foot, and he kicked himself for never noticing before, even as he forced his own mind to focus on the matter at hand.

"We should go, in case more are about," Dwalin growled in Thorin's ear, who nodded in response.

"Can you ride, Miss Khayl?" ordinarily, Argo would have expected Khayl to snort in response, but he had a feeling that she had already concluded as to who Thorin really was, though she had never met him before. But then Argo caught sight of the shield that had earned the king his name and concluded that Khayl was far more perceptive than people ever realised.

"Always." Khayl replied, a slight smirk playing at her lips she took two steps towards Prour, who, true to her command, had continued to follow Argo despite repeatedly being tied up. She made it the two steps before the world tilted alarmingly and Argo was forced to dash forward before her already wounded head made impact with the ground once again.

"Need a hand?" he asked, only to have Khayl curl her lip at him.

"Never." She pulled away from him and lurched shakily toward her horse before standing next to him and craning her head to look at the saddle above her. "Well, maybe a boost wouldn't go astray…"

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**A/N Urgh, writing this chapter was like pulling teeth. That's all I'm gonna say on it. I'm not a hundred percent happy with it, but I've been pondering over Khayl's introduction to the dwarves of the Ered Luin since I started writing this story and what better way to do that than to dice in a little more action? I think that's three chapters in a row, but I hope you enjoyed it because I'm not a hundred percent sure when there will be some again. But knowing orcs… hey it could be anytime!**

**On another note – Eeeeee! Thorin! Dwalin! YAY! I have no idea if I'm going to be able to portray them, or rather any of the company, properly, so let me know if they seem OOC please**

**And last but certainly, most definitely, never least… me being a sap and thanking people! I don't know what I would do without you all! So to **_**CrazyFanGirl18, Marina Oakenshield, Dalonega Noquisi (**_**can you say 'legend' anybody :D ) **_**MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever, StarlessGalaxies **_**and **_**aireagle92. **_**For me, you guys make the sun shine and the moon glow! All of my thanks can never be enough! If I have missed anybody I am so seriously sorry, but blame it on my phone which has decided to be a nutter. **

**So until next time, my lovelies!**

**EquusGold, out! **


	10. Chapter 10 Haze

Through Their Eyes 15-08-2014

Chapter Ten: Haze

Khayl tapped her fingers incessantly against the wooden bedside table, her nails making hollow taps against the exquisitely carved piece of furniture. For a moment the she-dwarf lay back, resting her back and ever-aching skull against the headboard, casting her mind back to when she had lived under another name and had been part of another species altogether.

Another long moment passed as she rested there, but then her fingers began to tap in an undulating beat, slow and powerful at first, before becoming rapid and catchy, the repetitiveness of it almost causing her to hum along in sync. She closed her eyes and let the hazy memory of the rhythm wash over her, bathing her in its melodic calm.

Music.

Khayl had almost forgotten what the music of her own world had sounded like. The different genres and styles, the different instruments and the complex electronics that were worked vigorously behind the scenes to create otherwise impossible tunes… she had almost forgotten, but wasn't feeling altogether sad about such a thing.

The concern lay in how easily she _was _forgetting things; it had been nigh on unnoticeable at first, small things like the scent of coffee or the exact patterning of the curtains in her room. Such things weren't overly bothersome, perhaps since she had never liked coffee anyway, and the curtains had always been ugly. Those were small things, things that held no meaning or that had concerned her in the first place. She _knew _she didn't like coffee; she didn't have to remember the taste of it to know that.

But a wound left untended will continue to fester and cause pain, and Khayl had let this lie too long. For it wasn't the small things she was forgetting anymore, those had long since disappeared, now she was losing all of that which she had ever held most dear, no matter which world she was in.

It had begun with faces mostly. Khayl had always been ghastly at recalling faces and figures, almost as bad as she was at recognising names, but everyone she know the faces of their family. Khayl had been envisioning them one quite night, placing emotions on their faces that didn't seem to quite fit, when she realised it wasn't the expressions, but the faces themselves that weren't right. She couldn't remember if her brother's nose was long and narrow or stouter and slightly kicked up at the end like her own. Her mother's eyes were entirely wrong. Were they hazel, like her daughters, or blue? Or was that her father? Did they have laugh lines about the corners? Dimples by the mouth?

Suddenly inundated with a now-apparent cloud over a good deal of her memory, Khayl had sunk to her knees and placed her head in her hands. For the first time since she was thirteen, watching her beloved cat die in a fit from snake venom, Mikhayla Coulter had cried. She had wept deep and long, and cried herself to sleep curled up on the floor of a strange inn in front of dead embers in the fireplace.

She was forgetting, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Since that day Khayl had veritably felt as though she was drowning in that haze upon her memories, but she had focused each day on remembering. Every time that she got a tickle of a memory, every time that something sparked a bought of melancholy or unexpected laughter she looked back through the labyrinth of her memories, trying to find the one that felt just right. It had worked, for a good while at least, and stymied the attack of the decay of time.

She had spent the last few days, whereupon she had been dwelling almost exclusively within the same boring bed, in the same boring room, of the same boring chamber that was the healing halls at Ered Luin, mulling over memories that should have been, and may once have been, an important moment of her life before. A wedding starring her brother who had smiled so widely that she thought he may well swallow his own head; sitting for hours as she worked on her Pop's eulogy, barely fourteen at the time, but the only one in her family, near or far, who had boasted the heart to take up the responsibility; the day she first picked up a bow, finding that she had a gift no one could take away from her; the day she had picked up _her _bow, her first bow, the one she still possessed, even in a whole other world. That was an acute memory. She remembered how the instructor had subtly but cruelly teased her in front of everybody.

"_The siyahs(*) are far too large; there'll be too much recoil when you release the arrow. Your arms won't be able to handle more than a half dozen shots." He had jeered. The rest of the gathering had praised his keen knowledge if his chosen sport. Mikhayla wanted to do nothing more than knock his grinning teeth down his throat, but she would settled for cutting his ego up into confetti. _

_The solemn teen hadn't said a word in response and merely stepped towards the target. She eased two dozen arrows into the hard ground at her feet where they stood upright, awaiting her. The bow fitted into her palm as though it had been made for her, the leather covering that bound it from top to bottom, leaving only the siyahs as bare wood, was soft beneath her fingers as she eased the string into the appropriate slots at the top and bottom, her mind chanting the _Hokey Pokey _the entire time._

_Mikhayla could feel their stares on their back, already judging her as people were wont to do. They thought her a silly and impudent child. Her mother smirked knowingly off to her right, behind the instructors shoulder, but there was an underlying tension also. Most people may have been utterly crippled by the fact that their own mother didn't wholly believe in them, but all it did was make Mikhayla all the more determined to perform perfectly and give her mother every reason to believe, as it should be. _

_The movements themselves seemed a haze for a moment, but the thud of each arrow would bring with it startling clarity and then she would be lost again as she reached, loaded, drew and released, the whisper of the arrows seeming be singing as the rent the air. The teen had released the final arrow and took a single, confident step back looking nowhere but the innocent cluster of hot-pink flighted arrows. The crowd was in motion behind her, whether physically or vocally she couldn't say, but gradually she let her eyes drift to the instructor who stared back at her, an unreadable expression in his eyes and a muscle twinging uncomfortably in his jaw. _

_Khayl had walked away with her shoulders thrown back. The arrows remained; a silent testament to the people who stood before it. None of it had been about her, though it may well have seemed that way. In truth it had been about believing in oneself when no else could. Though Khayl was man enough to admit that she had derived a considerably amount of rather guilty satisfaction from the act – _

Khayl started as heavy doors slammed somewhere in the healing halls. The main doors, she assumed, but it was debateable. But when no one came knocking on her door and no screams echoed about the otherwise quite hall she didn't let in concern her. Instead she dropped back against the head board, wincing as she accidentally relaxed a little too abruptly conked her already pained noggin.

Khayl closed her eyes against the now-expected pain that darted from the back of her skull to rest for a moment behind her eyes. Once there it scattered outwards towards her temples, causing just about all of the pain receptors in her head to fire in one fell swoop. After a brief interlude of wincing and scrunching up her face, Khayl became aware that there was something wrong. She opened her eyes again and they darted around the room, trying to link the sensation to an object or person.

Eventually satisfied that there wasn't anything _wrong _per say, she allowed her eyes to drift lazily, where they came to rest upon her right hand which still lay atop the bedside table. The feeling that something was out of place intensified within her and her mind recalled the dull thunking that she had laughingly likened to music.

Frustrated beyond belief now, Khayl set about trying to rectify the issue, setting her fingers to tapping out a rhythm. But none of the sounds elicited thereon sounded … right. They were too hollow or too sharp, or they simply didn't fit whatever melody it was she was trying to recall. The injured dwarrowdam wracked her brains to try and recall the elusive song that had come so easily to her before, but to no avail. It was there, somewhere, but danced about just outside of her reach, hidden in the thick shroud of fog that lay over a number of her memories.

At last Khayl could stand it no longer, her already threadbare patience being stripped a little more, and she thumped down her fist upon the dratted piece of furniture, the booming sound that emanated sounding obnoxiously loud to her ears. She hoped that none of the healers would come and check on her – that would be embarrassing at the very least. Then she would probably shame herself by snapping at them for no fault of their own as she took out her anger and frustration on anything with two legs and a heartbeat.

The dwarrowdam sighed deeply; feeling aged beyond her years as she forced the vestiges of anger to gradually ebb away, though the persistent jabbing in the side of her skull helped her to maintain a tight coil of dormant rage within her chest, like a sleeping adder. Khayl shuffled uncomfortably under blankets, whishing there were more of them as she rested in the cool halls. But she would make do, as always, and shuffled down until she was lying on her back, staring at the dark stone roof. Khayl closed her eyes and tried to force herself to sleep through sheer willpower, but her thoughts continued to whir and her eyes refused to stay shut, her head pounding incessantly now that it wasn't overly elevated.

It was several minutes of this torturous not-rest before her eyes where roving across one corner of the room, only to coming flicking back to something that rested innocently atop the bedside table. Her stomach, gurgled at the thought, though not out of hunger, and her tongue wanted to hide itself down her throat. She wondered if it would even work cold…

But there was only one way to find out and she sat back up, moving slowly to minimise the ache in her cranium. Khayl took the earthen cup in two hands, cringing at the stone cold feel of it, for she knew what lay inside would be colder still. Though it warred against her better judgement, she glanced inside the cup, hoping no flitting insects had landed in the liquid, a sleeping draught that they lay at her bedside ever six hours, but that she had never taken, not even when her head had been screaming in agony. A parted of her felt like she was betraying herself, giving in to weakness and let the pain and exhaustion get the better of her, but the more intelligent, logical part of her slapped that down sharply, screaming for a reprieve, no matter what form it came in. A few hours of blissful nothingness would work wonders… she swilled the contents about in the cup before stirring it half-heartedly with a finger, returning it to its previous unappetising murky green.

The cold brew was gag worthy, but Khayl lifted it anyway and downed it in one, dregs and all. She slipped the drained cup back onto the bedside table and snuggled down into the blankets, surprised by the potency of the brew as the persistent stabbing pain in her skull dulled to a mere echo of itself. She closed her eyes, silently revelling in her still thoughts and focused for a moment on unwinding each of her body parts individually, starting from her face, neck and shoulders and working her way down to where her toes curled under the blankets.

The she-dwarf breathed a fierce sigh of relief and sunk back, welcoming a fitful slumber.

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The nightmares came before too long. She assumed, somewhere deep within her mind, that the draught had worn off and she was sleeping under her own steam now, though she would never in a thousand years call it a fitful sleep, at least not any longer.

_There were demons in her dreams, dark demons that slipped through the shadows noiselessly and grasped at her with cold, clenching hands, the long fingers tipped with talon-like claws. She screamed and ran through the corridors of her mind, always trying to get away but seemingly getting nowhere. Khayl ran, on and on as fast as she could, but the demons were always there, effortlessly running far faster than she. They waved weapons at her, silvery whips arcing through the air to crack viciously just inches from her terrified face._

_Abruptly the dark corridor she was running down shifted, tilted upwards and then she was sliding backwards, trying to find purchase where there was none. She was falling through the portal all over again, and this time there was no one there to keep her company, for her to pretend to be brave in front of when really all she wanted to do was curl up and cry._

_Then her back pounded into the ground, her head delivering a meaty smack to the cold stone she lay upon. Haltingly, Khayl rose up, trying to steady her swimming vision. Something dark ran past the corner of her vision and she jerked back unconsciously, but the figure disappeared in a swirl of smoke. Khayl glanced up, turning uncomfortably in a small circle as she realised where she was. She was back in that little town, the one the orcs had overrun, standing in the centre of the town square, back in the centre of a whirling battle where there were far more orcs than there ever had been in real life. There were wargs too, charging through the fray, their teeth and claws shredding opponents left right and centre. The dark figures, all swathed in various shades of black and grey, charged about her and she recoiled from each on, though none came at her._

_Logic told Khayl that this was a dream, and that she couldn't be harmed even if one of them did come at her with the intent to kill, but it was all so terrifying, causing her to go dry-mouthed and for her heart to beat faster than could possibly be conducive to her good health._

_What was most disturbing was that Khayl couldn't see any of the opponents that the orcs were facing; the orcs were too tall and surrounded her so tightly that she was sure something was going push straight over the top of her. It didn't happen though, for it seemed that there was some kind of force about her that caused them to part around her just before she was trampled. So as it was she pushed her way through the milling, screaming orcs and clambered up upon the rough statue that graced the very centre of the square. Then she made the mistake of peering out over the dark, roiling masses to where a small group clustered together, trying to defend against insurmountable odds. _

_She couldn't see who they were, only that they were mainly human with a handful of dwarves strewn through them. But Khayl saw them die with awful clarity, one by one. Each time it was as if they were suddenly right in front of her and always they looked at her beseechingly before the light faded from their eyes. _

_The first to fall was the young boy who had so fearlessly wielded his bow and had saved her life. An axe very much like the one his companion had used flashed and then embedded itself in his forehead. Khayl hadn't missed the way his eyes caught hers before his life was snuffed out._

_The next was her brother and it was the first time in months that she had accurately been able to recall all of the features of her older sibling. He wasn't fighting; instead he stood stock still, trying to shield a small figure in his arms that Khayl connected with her two month old niece, or at least she had been two before Middle Earth had stormed into her life. Their end was at spear point, the wicked weapon piercing both their bodies in a single thrust. Her brother had reached out a hand to her, terror shining in his eyes, but then he had crumpled; his daughter's cries so fierce that Khayl thought her head might split from the intensity of it. All too soon the haunting sound choked off in a horrific gurgle…_

_Argo stepped up over the entangled corpses of Khayl's brother and niece. He swung that enormous sword of his in those never ending arcs and loops; foes falling before him like wheat before the scythe. But then the sword dropped and he was staring at his severed hands, utterly aghast. His eyes flicked up, met Khayl's and turned hard. _'Coward!' _his expression screamed, but then a blade came out of nowhere and pierced below his chin and carried through his skull all the way out the top._

_Khayl wanted to cover her eyes, wanted to run away, but it was like some grotesque film that she couldn't tear herself from. It was like someone had pinned her eyes lids back and turned her body into a plaster cast. She whimpered as she saw Thorin, the last standing. His black hair was swept back and his mail was splattered with copious amounts of blood, both black and crimson. The piercing blue of his eyes met hers for a long moment and he shook his head in solemn disappointment. A warg leapt from the masses and took the dwarf king in its jaws. Even from where she was Khayl could hear the rending of armour and crunching of bones as the beast shook his corpse like a ragdoll. _

_Khayl screamed out in rage and agony as she was forced to watch. She wanted to run down there and avenge them. She wanted to kill every goddamned orc in existence. _

_Then, when she though it could get no worse an enormous shadow swept over the scene, delving everything into impenetrable blackness, but only for a moment for then the shadow passes, but Khayl had shut her eyes so tightly she didn't see the difference. The dwarrowdam only allowed them to creep open when a great hot wind blew upon her face, and the moment she did open them she wished she never had._

_A great dragon gazed at her, red-gold in his magnificence. He was mere metres from her and the only thing that was real in that moment was he and the statue that Khayl clung to like it was a lifeline. The dragon smiled, revealing enormous ivory teeth that curved like cruel scimitars and the she-dwarf thought she might die from terror. _

_The dragon's tale came from nowhere, even as it continued to smile insidiously and smashed through the statue, sending Khayl flying through the air. She gasped, dazed, as she hit the ground, smacking her head once in what seemed like an overly repetitive action. The dwarrowdam opened her eyes only for a great flame to come washing over her like a formidable tidal wave. Khayl took the briefest of moments to scream as her skin bubbled and was her bones incinerated before everything went black once again._

_When Khayl next opened her eyes – with the greatest reluctance – it was to find that orc - the tall formidable one that had bashed her face in with a mace - staring back down at her with something akin to a smirk gracing its twisted features. It reached down and wrapped it brawny hands around her throat, causing her to gag and splutter, flailing uncontrollably. Her vision darkened and spots danced behind her eyes. She was going to die and there was nothing she could do! _

_Khayl flailed again and her hand collided with something that was flung away and shattered upon the ground. She jolted at the sudden sound in what had been an otherwise mostly silent dream and the ground tilted out from under her._

Blinking into wakefulness in a fear induced adrenaline rush Khayl tore the blanket from around her neck and body, flinging it from her. She panted on her hands and knees in the still infirmary room, taking in the smashed cup and pounding in her head.

The door swung open behind her and was halted from smashing into the wall by a quick hand. A figure moved into the Khayl's line of vision and crouched before her. Deep, youthful eyes stared back at her with concern evident in their murky brown depths.

"Are you alright? I heard something smash…?" the young dwarf put one hand on her hunched shoulder as Khayl's gaze drifted from his own.

"It's fine; just a nightmare." The injured dwarrowdam pushed herself to her feet in one rough, jerky movement that predictably left her swaying on her feet. The male dwarf rose with her, not taking his eyes off her for a single moment.

"Must've been some nightmare," the stranger remarked, gesturing to the pulverised remains of the earthenware cup that was clustered against the wall. "Are you sure you're alright? Shall I fetch one of the healers?"

He sounded slightly frantic, as though wasn't sure what the proper protocol for this particular situation was. Somehow, despite the roaring in her chest and the thunder in her skull, Khayl managed to conjure a small but sincere smile for the brunet.

"I will be alright." She paused for a brief moment, her thoughts flicking towards the horrid scenes that had flashed passed her during her 'rest.' But she forcefully turned her wandering mind away from the dream, the pain and terror far too raw.

"I'm Kíli," the stranger said, bowing jauntily, a smile on his face now that the injured she-dwarf looked in no danger of passing out again. "I heard the cup break as I was passing, and then you must've fallen to the floor; I had to make sure everything was alright."

"Khayl," the coppery haired female said in way of introduction. "Thankyou for your help, though I was fine."

Kíli just looked at her like she'd done some serious damage upon falling out of her bed. "Sure you were."

**A/N. Wow, that is a loooong chapter (for me anyway haha) it was kind of in response to all the simply AMAZING reviews I have been getting of late! I mean seriously, you guys are the best! I hope you like this aptly named chapter even though it may seem slightly irrelevant. If you're wondering what the hell a 'siyah' is then the very bottom of this A/N is for you.**

**As ever please forgive my stupid mistakes… much of this is unedited due to author falling asleep currently…**

**Now, onto the important stuff! My utmost and sincerest thanks go to **_**Dalonega**__**Noquisi**_** (You wonderful person, you) **_** . ' .x**_**, **_**Lady Sophia of Arda, Knowing Grace (**_**You're review was spectacular, it gave me so much hope and inspiration!)**_**, MidnightTales357, MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever, Alu Riversong **_**(Yay! Kíli's here! I'm glad my story meets the standards for 'different'**_**) BlackHreat **_**and**_** Hksmith! **_**Thankyou so much! The response to last chapter was … mind blowing. **

**(*) the siyah is a heavy end to the limbs of the bow, with the nock at the end of it. The bow string lies flat along the siyah for at least an inch (any less and I believe it's not actually a siyah, just the end of the limb.) I'm modelling Khayl's bow off my own traditional horse bow, in that the siyah on either end is about 7 inches long. (But I could measure it entirely wrong!) Basically her memory is a really accurate rendition of my second horse archery clinic, though I only shot a half dozen arrows and was sixteen at the time. But I thought it would do the trick as a memory for her, and one of the major development steps in her self-confidence, as it was for me. All you really need to know though is that I was too tired and too lazy to come up with something original. **

**Okay, I'm gonna go catch some much needed Zzzz's now.**

**EquusGold, signing off. **


	11. Chapter 11 Kili Fildurul

Through Their Eyes 18-08-2014

Chapter Eleven: Kíli Fildurul

**Kíli, Son of Fildur**

Kíli tried his utmost to stifle his laughter at his brothers expense the blonde haired heir of Durin looking utterly scandalised.

"Honestly Kíli, I don't know where you learned such things," Fíli said, trying to keep the smirk off his face as his brother tumbled over backwards, breathless from trying to contain his laughter. When the archer resurfaced he gave one more hearty chuckle and slapped down on his brother's leg absently, getting a howl of pain and outrage in return.

Kíli suddenly realised he'd slapped his brothers _broken _leg and withdrew his hand like the offending appendage had been scalded, horror and guilt plastering themselves to his face. This turned to outrage as it was now Fíli's turn to draw amusement from his brother's woes as he rapped his knuckles against the solid splint, his leg hidden somewhere under a vast swathe of bandages.

Kíli glowered, taking a half-hearted swipe at his big brother which Fíli allowed to connect with his shoulder, still grinning broadly. Revenge extracted, Kíli slid from the bed and stood, stretching.

"I'm hungry. You want something nadad?" he asked, looking back at Fíli with a questioning tilt of his head, only to have the blonde shake his own in response.

"Nah, I'm fine. I should probably try to get some sleep before that crazy healer comes back though." He gave a mock shudder and worked his way under the thin infirmary blankets. Kíli gave another laugh and retreated out the door, sweeping a low, extravagant bow to his brother as he did so, catching his brother's scowl with a wink.

"Idiot…" was the last thing the younger brother heard as he closed the door. He turned and flounced along the hall, quickly becoming bored and feeling more than a little lonely. It was weird without his brother by his side, he figured, even if it was only temporary and even if he had seen him not moments ago. He rarely spent any time away from Fíli and to be on his own now just felt odd. It was almost sickening to come to the realisation that he didn't have any other friends. Sure, he spent time with many of the other young dwarves at one point or another, but always Fíli was with him, and without him he wasn't a hundred percent sure what to do. There were plenty of things he would like to do, but none of them would be very much fun without a friend to enjoy them with.

Kíli caught his wandering thoughts then. His brother had only been bedridden for a day and already he was acting like it was the end of the world. Granted Fíli would be at minimal mobility for weeks to come, but he could survive on his own until he was back to normal.

It was then that Kíli heard a strangled cry, the shattering crash of pottery and a heavy 'whump' that sounded like the one Kíli emitted every time his brother bodily slammed him into the ground whilst they wrestled. Panting gasps and shot intermittent cries followed this but Kíli was already moving.

The sound was strongest two doors down and he burst into the room, managing to catch the door before it smashed into the stone wall. Kíli's eyes took in the scene in a matter of very short moment, the smashed cup, the mussed and torn bed sheets scattered across the shifted bed and, most importantly, the figure sprawled by the side of the bed, heaving in immense panting gasps.

Part of him longed to just run for a healer and let them fix it, but the stronger, more irrational side that had moments ago been convincing him that he _could _be independent was telling him to make sure the injured dwarf was alright. So he moved around the hunched dwarf who was on their hands and knees and clutching at the cold, smooth stone like it was some sort of lifeline.

He dropped down into a crouch before them and stared intently at the figure, taking in the poultice and bandage around the dwarf's head. Kíli briefly wondered if the dwarf's actions had been caused by the head injury and if he therefore should have left well enough alone. But then the strangers faced inched up and he was ensnared by piercing hazel eyes that were more green than brown at that moment. The gaze was astute even with the sharp fear he could see within in them and Kíli realised that this dwarf most definitely wasn't addled. So when the dwarf's gaze drifted from his own he found himself babbling slightly.

"Are you alright? I heard something smash…?" he placed one calloused hand on the stranger's shoulder, willing them to look back at him. This time he wasn't immediately captured by the overwhelming power in such a simple look and he saw clearly that this wasn't just a dwarf, but a dwarrowdam. The broad shoulders, strong body and bandages had misled him but she was definitely a _she. _

"Its fine; just a nightmare." The young - for she was most assuredly young without the heavy, apparent burdens of the mature dwarrow – injured dwarrowdam ground out, and though her voice was rough and thick with pain and from being so obviously shaken, it was smoother and lighter than any dam he had met, sounding more like the voice of a daughter of Man.

Somehow during his thoughts she slipped her shoulder from under his hand and lurched to her feet in a single, hugely unsteady movement, swaying dangerously on her feet. Kíli rushed to rise with her, keeping his eyes on her in case she keeled over at any moment, but after a few seconds she had settled securely on her feet.

"Must've been some nightmare," Kíli found himself remarking, before he mentally kicked himself for his lack of tact. When he gestured to the obliterate cup he wanted to throw himself off a cliff for that same severe deficiency in consideration, watching as the dwarrowdam's eyes darkened in something that looked like a cross between fear and disgust. Kíli became all too aware that he wasn't at all qualified for such a situation and began to babble again, the she-dwarf's eyes coming back to rest on him with something that looked like tired amusement. Kíli found himself wanting to weep with relief when she conjured up a small but soft smile, her eyes shining.

"I will be alright." She said in a soft measured tone. She paused for a moment, as though frozen, and her eyes darkened, fear flashing through them. Kíli felt himself being affected by that shadowy, overwhelming fear and he almost had to physically shake himself to be rid of it. He was almost afraid to look in her eyes again lest the darkness creep in and steal his mind away… but then he pushed that away, determined to be strong for this dwarrowdam who looked oh so tired and afraid.

"I'm Kíli," he found himself saying with a grin and a jaunty bow that wasn't all too dissimilar to the one had graced Fíli with upon his exit. He then felt an irrational need to clarify why he had stopped to help, since he didn't want a lovely lady such as this to think he had just been stalking about outside her door. In all honesty, he didn't want anybody to think that. So he said: "I heard the cup break as I was passing, and then you must've fallen to the floor; I had to make sure everything was alright."

"Khayl," the female said, another small smile gracing her face as she blatantly ignored his wholly unnecessary explanation. Kíli found himself enticed to roll her name of his tongue and see if it sounded as exotic when he said it, but quelled the urge. . "Thankyou for your help, though I was fine."

At this Kíli had to choke back a laugh and looked at her incredulously. "Sure you were."

"I was, and am, thankyou," the dwarrowdam snapped, slightly affronted. But then her stomach gave a preposterous gurgle and she looked at him with wide, aghast eyes, clutching the noisemaker. Kíli just found himself laughing heartily and after a brief moment the she-dwarf –Khayl- relaxed and gave a soft laugh herself. It wasn't the deep throated, full bellied laugh one expected from a dwarf, but lighter and breezier, and like her speech it reminded him of a daughter of Man.

"I was just on my way to get something to eat," Kíli felt the need to state once he had managed to rein in his laughter. "Would you like to join me or are you going to be physically restrained if you set foot out the door?"

He had been a victim of the healers methods many times himself and knew their tactics and he found himself hoping that such a comment would make her laugh again. It took a moment but then there was a quick flutter of sniggers that spoke of mischief and trouble, though the sound would have been more a place with a naughty dwarfling than a dwarf lady.

"Speaking of experience?" Khayl snickered, before she managed to stifle the cheeky sounds and looked at him with a wavering façade of seriousness. "I would love to join you for … whatever meal this may be."

"It's somewhere between lunch and dinner." He said as he offered her his arm. Khayl looked at him for a moment, seeing through his otherwise chivalrous motion.

"I don't need a leaning post," she grumbled but allowed her own arm to sneak out and wrap around his. Kíli thought for the first several metres that she truly wouldn't need to lean on him – and let's face it a small part of him was disappointed at the prospect – but then she paused for a moment, seemingly to fight a fierce wave of dizziness.

"Sorry," she muttered as she all but collapsed into his arms for a moment, only to struggle back to her own feet – again, disappointing – and huff with frustration. "I've been abed for four days; this is the first time I've been up save for some frustrating forays around my room."

The copper-haired dwarrowdam didn't pull away this time when Kíli tightly wrapped his arm around her own, not giving her to slightest opportunity to make the floor their destination.

"Four days?" he echoed, cogs in his mind whirring, knowing this should be familiar to him. Then it struck him and he almost released Khayl to step back and regard her in awe. However the secure lock she had about his arm prevented such a thing. "You're the dwarf who fought off the orcs."

"I don't like orcs." The dwarrowdam said decisively, her free hand rising to touch her wound fleetingly, but she was mostly ignored by Kíli.

"What you did was really brave," Kíli looked at the dwarrowdam in a new light. He had wondered how a lady dwarf would sustain such an injury, but now it was clear. "They said you'd been injured, but ah that's pretty much all anybody's heard."

His voice held such a plea to know what had happened that Khayl couldn't help but laugh, even as the action made her head swim. "I will tell you, but only over a hot meal."

"Sounds like a plan." Kíli grinned widely at her, showing a row of straight, white teeth and Khayl found his youthful exuberance so lightening, like a breath of fresh air, that her injury, nightmare and dishevelled appearance all drifted to the back of her mind where she took the opportunity to trap them behind heavy iron bars. Perhaps she would let them out for some exercise later, but now was not that time.

So slowly the wounded she-dwarf and dark-haired prince of Durin ambled off, following their noses to the scent of savoury and wood smoke.

The food hall was like a small tavern built into the Halls of Healing, though it was less dingy and far less homey. But it had food and that was all Khayl's grumbling stomach cared up at that moment. She allowed Kíli to sit her down at a small table and, since she had no idea what was being served, went to track down some food.

It didn't take long, but in the brief absence of his presence Khayl found herself becoming incredibly self-conscious and uneasy. Kili's cheerful, upbeat presence was enough to keep any dark thoughts or insecurities at bay, but now that he wasn't by her side and endowing her with his exuberant chatter she felt very much alone and isolated.

It was slightly busy in the food hall, with what she assumed were families visiting wounded friends or loved ones, and Khayl was filled with the sneaking suspicion that everyone who glanced at her knew who she was and was undoubtedly judging her. Perhaps it was because Kíli had connected the dots so quickly and he was young and not altogether too wise. How fast could other people do the same?

Kíli was waiting to be served when he glanced back over at Khayl who sat ramrod straight, a forlorn expression on her face even as her eyes flicked about with uneasiness and suspicion in their depths. He wondered at it, but then caught sight of a handful of young children staring at her open-mouthed. The adults were less obvious about it, but it was clear that they were all curious and, in some cases, suspicious. Kíli ground his teeth at them; could none of them see for all their stares how uncomfortable they were making the young dwarrowdam.

He hurried back with the bowls; one a thick creamy chicken broth, the other a hearty beef stew. He wasn't sure what the strange young she-dwarf would like, but he wasn't fussy, especially since he was so hungry. Or as Dwalin would so eloquently put it when he stopped by for lunch sometimes and Dís was well out hearing; hungry enough to eat the arse out of a low-flying duck.

He placed the steaming bowls on the table with a clunk in front of Khayl, wincing apologetically as he startled her slightly. Kíli sat down slowly and smiled as she looked up at him. Oddly enough she seemed far more at ease now that he was back and not standing several metres away.

"Thankyou," she said softly, taking the bowl of beef stew, though Kíli had to wonder whether she meant thanks for the stew of thanks for coming back. Maybe it was both, he reasoned, shaking his head as he dragged the other bowl towards where he sat across from the dwarrowdam. He took a moment to let the scent assail his nostrils and then he couldn't resist, not having eaten for a goodly amount of time.

Kíli caught himself after several mouthfuls of food, realising that he had just taken everything his mother had ever taught him about proper table etiquette and thrown it out the window. If Lady Dís could see him then, eating like that in front of a dwarrowdam she would have tanned his hide ten ways to Sunday. The mere thought of it had him shuddering, laying down his spoon and looking up, an apology on his lips. Somehow, just somehow, he managed to restrain himself from laughing.

Khayl was eating with all the manners and grace of a ravenous dog, wolfing down the stew like it might bite her if she didn't swallow fast enough. Kíli found himself watch in something akin to awe as she devoured the chunky pieces and then threw the rest down with a single tilt of the bowl. When she looked up it was with a meek expression on her face as she licked the remained from her lips. The dwarrowdam had seen him watching, he realised with a start, but had been too engaged in her food to be at all bothered.

"Have they fed you at all for the last four days?" Kíli asked, deeming it safe to tease. Khayl just shook her head at his irrepressibility.

"Some weak, watered down broth. I was too nauseous to keep it down, and then I was asleep," she shrugged her shoulders as if that was all that needed saying, but Kíli couldn't help but feel a little bad for her. He had been seriously sick for over a week once, unable to hold onto any food. When he hadn't been feeling all twisted up he had suffered from hunger pangs. Not fun. "But I do believe I promised you a little story, right?"

Kíli perked up his ears and sat up much straighter, transfixing Khayl with such an excited stare that she was hard pressed not to collapse into giggles. He smiled at the brightened expression on her face. "I do believe you did."

Khayl hummed nonsensically and pondered where to begin and how to put everything into words. She prided herself on being an okay story teller – especially when she was permitted to be a little lax about the truth – but this time she wanted everything to be straight. She had read enough novels to know that bottling things up only ever made it worse. Maybe this would serve to alleviate the fear that still dwelled within her from the nightmare.

"Well then, let's see. It was a human town, late at night and I couldn't sleep…"

**A/N Kíli ! Yay! He got an entire chapter named after him haha. On that note, I'm using the name Fildur for the father of the Durin lads because I read it in a fan fiction once and loved it. Sorry for the sort of slow chapter though. It kind of just sets up the Khayl and Kíli relationship thing I have going on. Hehehe. **

**On a second, far less cheerful note something has happened to my reviews! I know that I received three reviews for last chapter from **_**Dalonega Noquisi, Marina Oakenshield **_**and **_**MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever **_**respectively. I know this because they came through my email. However when I went to reply there was nothing, it simply said 'invalid message 3' accompanied by 'we could not find the review you're replying to.' The reviews practically don't exist anymore so I don't know what's going on. If anyone can help that would be immensely appreciated.**

**So I'm going to reply to **_**Dalonega Noquisi **_**here: Yes, I can just imagine my own mind kind of imploding with it all. The thinking (behind the memory loss) was that for four years Khayl's been utterly focused on this world, seeing it sort of as her duty to fit in. I think she kind of just assumed that the other world was 'right' and so it would always be 'hers.' I'm kind of working off the idea that Middle Earth is sort of claiming her. I'm glad you like it and it will have greater significance later on. And yes, Kíli! I love this guy so much he got his own chapter. (With a Fíli cameo just to sate your curiosity slightly!) **

**And to **_**Marina Oakenshield, MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever**_** and **_**Jimxi, **_**thanks for your support! If I missed anyone, blame it on whatever's going on with the site.**


	12. Chapter 12 Stories to Tell

Through Their Eyes 20-08-2014

Chapter Twelve: Stories to Tell

Kíli was a good listener; Khayl wouldn't have thought it with his exuberant and somewhat uncontainable nature, but he was. He sat rapt, his eyes focused on her and the spoon making regular cycles between his bowl and his mouth for it seemed that nothing could stop Kíli from eating. He scarcely commented the entire while, preferring to just go with the flow of the story and accept things as Khayl told them. His facial expressions ranged from horror, to anger to gleeful and they changed at a rather alarming frequency.

Kíli would have said that Khayl was an expert story teller, her tones of voice varying depending on the situation and she could tell the funniest situations with an absolute deadpan face, while her expressions would cause his heart to alternate between leaping and dropping like a stone. The dwarrowdam possessed an uncanny ability to make the simplest comment said by Argo sound like the funniest thing in the world, despite how it may have been intended.

But there seemed to be a guard somewhere in her eyes that stopped him from looking too deep, from seeing something that was intentionally hidden from sight. He was familiar with such a thing; Thorin was the same and Kíli had come to learn that it was the horrors in his past, his own history, which shrouded and smothered him from within. Kíli tried to draw some kind of comparison between the two of them but the only similarity he could truly see, from his brief meeting with Khayl, was that reservedness, the sense that there was always some part of themselves drawn back and locked away, hidden from the outside world. It made Kíli all the more curious about whatever shadow seemed to lay over Khayl's past.

"Are you even listening to me? Perhaps I would have better luck talking to that wall over there…" he heard an irritated female grumble and Kíli forced himself to look up from where his eyes had drifted down to the table and meet Khayl's brown, green eyes. He thought it strange how they changed colour, bad emotions seemed to bring out the green and good emotions made them seem like molten chocolate. It was weird, he decided. One more layer to the complex puzzle that was Khayl. This dwarrowdam was nothing if not complex – and Kíli had only know her for just over two hours!

"I wasn't but now I am," he admitted with a smirk, having realised quite early on that it was useless to try and bluff his way past her perceptive gaze. Even with a good portion of her face wrapped in a poultice, gauze and bandages she still managed to catch him out every time and would sceptically raise her single uncovered brow. She just took his blatant, though unappreciated, honesty with a long-suffering sigh. He could tell they were going to get on great already.

"I asked 'why were you in the healing halls?'" she reached up and rubbed at a small piece of bright auburn hair that was tangled in the bandages. Any braids she had been wearing must've been removed, Kíli realised, not having seen a single one on her person. Her beard was too short to be braided in any way. "You said you were just passing outside my room when you – when you heard."

Khayl hadn't spoken about what had occurred in her room other than to wave a dismissing hand and once again state that she'd had a nightmare and was perfectly fine about it now. But Kíli had an unshakeable feeling that such a virulent night terror, indeed one that was enough to send Khayl into a fit, had to have something to do with that reserved look in her eye. He didn't think that such things were ever unrelated.

"I _was _just passing," Kíli said in another attempt to make it clear that he had been lurking around outside, though Khayl still gave small chuckled and once again raised that brow sceptically. That small movement was already beginning to get on his nerves, though she didn't seem to do it intentionally. "I had been with my brother, and was on my way to get something to eat."

"You're brothers in the Healing Halls?" Khayl asked, curiosity tinging her tone. Kíli provided an absentminded nod of the head in response. "Is he okay? What happened?"

Kíli shrugged nonchalantly and tried to valiantly to keep the smirk from crawling onto his face, but to no avail. The concern in her tone for a perfect stranger, who she hadn't even _seen_ let alone met before, was surprising.

"He broke his leg. Idiot." He said, adding the last part on as an afterthought. Khayl snickered.

"Tell me the story," she demanded, though still managing to make it sound sort of like a request. Kíli laughed at her childishness before raising an eyebrow in the best imitation of her that he could manage. When her own lifting questioningly, he realised he still had a lot to learnt about that particular art from. "G`arn, I told you mine!"

The dark-haired archer felt his brow furrow at the strange words, but the meaning was evident, so he passed it to the back of his mind for the moment. He didn't see the brief look of panic that had shot across Khayl's face at her slip. She tried very hard to bury her old way of speaking and her old accent, but she constantly found herself on the verge of screwing up whilst around Kíli; he was just so easy to talk too and the words seemed to just walk out of her mouth before she'd even considered them. The dwarrowdam had seen the confusion cross his features and had breathed the most immense –yet utterly silent –sigh of relief and vowed to be more careful. She was just grateful he hadn't asked about it. She might be a fair storyteller but Khayl didn't enjoy lying, not about important things and not to people she had only just befriended. But Kíli, being gentle and good-natured without a suspicious bone in his body had just shrugged it off and began telling Khayl how his brother had broken his leg.

"Well, since you and Argo came and told everyone about the orcs nobodies been permitted to leave the city, except hunters of course, but they must travel in groups. So naturally Fíli and I were bored within the halls of the mountain and decided to find something to do in the outer city. It was hot at ground level so, being the skilled climbers that we are -" Here Kíli winked at Khayl in a friendly way and she got the distinct impression that they weren't quite the 'skilled' climbers that Kíli claimed them to be, though no doubt they thought it at the time. "– we took to the roofs and ended up on top of the inn, of all places.

"Some other lads joined as at that point and we were having a right merry time. Being the inn, ale clearly got involved and we may or may not have had a touch too much of it for our location," Khayl had to admit that at least Kíli could admit where they had screwed up, at least in hindsight he could. "We started off wrestling then there was more ale, then a couple lasses showed up so it turned to dancing. Now, Fíli and I are both exceptional dancers, make no doubt of it."

Khayl simply nodded her head as though to say 'I'm sure you are,' and let Kíli continue his story.

"But they have this crazy dance in Ered Mithrin that's all about leaping and flipping and the roof of the inn is broad and flat for a goodly part. One of the lads was from Ered Mithrin and he felt like showing off to some of the lasses, stone-drunk though he was. But it takes two dwarves for the dance seeing as though it requires throws and boost and stuff. So my brother, being the idiot that he is and not as capable of holding his drink as he seems to think, volunteered." Kíli sighed and seemed to sink into the memory a little, and there was a small amount of concern colouring his features. Khayl could imagine all too well what happened next, and she knew that Kíli must've been terrified when it happened. "Long story short Fíli slips, falls of the two storey roof and into a massive pile of crates."

"Thus breaking his leg," Khayl supplied with a slight smile. Kíli hmmm'd her before her words registered in his head causing him to laugh and clap his hands together, drawing a wide-eyed stare from a nearby table.

"Oh no, that came after!" he laughed. "Fíli took the fellow from Ered Mithrin with him and both blamed each other for what happened. So naturally the disagreement went the same way that it normally does among our kind; two fellows brawling it out in the middle of the town.

"I'm not sure how the broken leg came about though; Fíli doesn't even remember, but I suppose that's just telling you how much he'd had to drink," Kíli snickered at his brother's inability to hold liquor. Khayl had to wonder if there was any alcohol left in the entire town if there had been an entire group of them that drunk. Dwarves were generally fairly resistant to becoming inebriated; it took Khayl herself a number of tankards before her head began to spin. She stopped wondering about it though when Kíli began to speak again, his tone of voice considerably more sombre. "It's a bit disappointing though."

"How's that?" Khayl asked curiously, noting the definite change in his tone and expression. He was quieter and a little wistful. He was even – if she wasn't mistaken – a little angry.

"My brother and I were supposed to be going with the rest of the warriors tomorrow morning to deal with the orcs. But my mother and uncle have said that I cannot go since we're not considered old enough. Not without the other to watch our back that is."

Yes, that was definitely anger and discontent in his tone, and it sounded … wrong on Kíli's tongue, especially when coupled with the hard look in his eye.

"Hey now," Khayl said softly, looking him square in the eye as the young dwarf's fists clenched atop the table. "It's not your brother's fault. Accidents happen and there's no good laying blame for it. You probably think your elders are being stupid, that you're more than capable of looking out for yourself, which I for one don't doubt you are, but they're just trying to do what's right for you. And you shouldn't be so eager to run off in search of death and glory; you will find both in time."

Kíli stared at the young dwarrowdam in front of him, with her piercing eyes and brow creased into a concerned frown, her mouth turned down ever so slightly at the corners. It was like someone had flicked a switch and the cheeky, laughing Khayl who had been sitting opposite him just moments was replaced by a serious and wise character, one who seemed to have far more experience with these things than he. Usually he would have scoffed at what she had said to him, had she been anyone else that is. But the way she had said it… she didn't speak to him condescendingly or if he knew nothing about the world, she just spoke to him from a depth of experience. She spoke to him like an equal and that above all else compelled him to listen.

"You're right. I should be more considerate of my elder's wishes." He said simply. "Thanks."

"Sometimes you're right to question them, but try to understand their motives before you condemn them." Khayl had dealt with enough hot-headed teenagers throughout her life to know what went through their minds. Hark; she had been one of them once! Now that she was a 'questionably mature' adult she often though back on those times and cringed. She also found it easier to understand why her parents had gotten so tired of her antics in her later teen years that they almost fully cast her off until she had gained some semblance of maturity. That had been when she was sixteen, but she had always been independent so it did wonders for her strength of character.

"I will try," Kíli responded softly, so softly in fact that Khayl barely heard him. But in response she grinned broadly before pushing herself to her feet, swaying a little as an enormous wave of dizziness rolled over her.

"That's all I can ask for. Now, be a dear and drag me back to my room before one of those crazy healers turns up."

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**A/N for the love of Mahal! This chapter goes nowhere! *bashes head and keyboard and weeps* I have read too many stories focused on character development recently and my brain seems to be enjoying introspective stuff at the moment. I swear, the next time one of my characters gets injured and has to spend time resting and healing, I'm just going to kill them off. This is what, **_**three **_**chapters now about Khayl in the healing halls? Gah, what is happening to me! Granted, two of these chapters have been Kíli-centric so that's nice, and we got Fíli being a tosser in this one, but it's very strange for me; I used to be a very pacey writer and haven't written anything other than school work in a **_**very **_**long time. **

**So that begs the question; what do **_**you **_**think of my pacing and stuff? I'm honestly a terrible judge. My writing kind of goes as it will and then stops where it feels right. I suppose I write shorter chapters so that must have some effect on it? Let's face it though, if I wrote longer chapters I would just drabble on and on and nobody would get an update, I would get bored and probably abandon this, so obviously that's not going to happen. I've just – become kind of concerned about it lately. I get the definite feel that people enjoy my faster paced actions scenes but its eating at me not knowing for sure… **

**On another note, I drew a picture of Khayl! As one of the dwarrow! Bet ya didn't know I could do that huh? When I get a chance I will upload it somewhere and share. It's the first pic I've done where they've actually ended up looking like a dwarf, so yay!**

**I had something else I was desperately supposed to ask also (I have serious insecurities as a writer as you can probably tell by my crazy authors notes. I mean who actually reads this crap? But let's face it, I need some serious help, mentally, emotionally, probably physically)… Oh! I remember, I think. Jumping between POVs, only I don't so much jump as subtly shift several times per chapter. Opinions anybody?**

**As ever, forgive my total lack of editing. And my craziness. I have three major assignments at the moment as well as a truck-load of mathematics work…**

**Which I should probably do, but writing for you guys and getting your responses makes me crazy happy, so here we go again: Thanks to **_**Knowing Grace **_**(seriously stop being so wonderful, you make me feel like I should write better chapters. Probably not a bad thing.) **_**Marina Oakenshield, Dalonega Noquisi, MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever, Wolves of Midnight **_**and **_**Imarie4410. **_**You guys are just inflating my ego something awful. Thankyou.**

**Know that **_**EquusGold**_** loves you all!**

**Seriously running on sleep deprivation here… I wish I like coffee…**


	13. Chapter 13 Kin and Kind

EquusGold 28/08/14

Chapter 13: Kin and Kind

Four days later and Khayl was freed, though not through any willingness of the healers, it should be noted. Kili had, rather surreptitiously, let it slip that she was feeling perfectly fine, aside from the occasional aching in her face. Word had crept through the ranks to his mother, who mentioned it the Argo's sister-in-law with whom she was a dear friend. So she had the three of them to thank for her timely rescue.

Khayl had been trying to fix her hair as best she could so that the gauze on her face wasn't overly evident. It wasn't hard; she pulled her back and put a tie in it between her shoulder blades and another further down. Her hair was naturally, utterly untameable so she the strands that fell forward on either side of her face didn't need any cajoling on her behalf. Two braids ran down from in front of her ears and curled on her chest, clasped in Argo's golden beads, the thin golden ribbon wound in from top to bottom.

The young dwarrowdam removed the slate grey shift that she had been given for the duration of her stay in the healing halls. Gratefully she slipped back into a well-worn set of breeches but she hesitated before she pulled the forest green tunic over her head.

There was a large mirror inside the door of the bare closet and she caught a glimpse of herself therein. In way of her physique she was very different to anything she had been as a human that much was obvious. But it was startling to see how much she had changed even since that first transformation. Khayl was broader than she had ever been, she was no longer lean and strong, rather she had muscles that would have been unbecoming to a human's eye. But she had long since learned that those muscles provided her with the bulk that she otherwise lacked with her thin form. What other dwarrow possessed naturally she had been forced to come upon through hard labour in the forge and training with the blade.

There were the scars also. The new slash across her shoulder would definitely leave a broad, gnarled scar – mostly because it had gone so long without proper treatment. The wound on her face would scar also, she had been told. But those were new wounds and had not silvered and become a part of her. The puckered gash that swept from her belly button around to her waist from a foolish mistake in training, thin, angular silver ridges that ran up the side of her neck from the time her arrow had become trapped behind the wood of the bow and the pressure from the released string had split it, sending fragments of wood into her face and throat. The crescent shaped burn just beneath her left collar bone, following the curve of her breast; it had been the result of a forge accident. Another forge mishap had resulted in a burn over her right elbow. Her hands and knuckles were covered in a myriad of thick and thin criss-crosses and burns, too many to count or distinguish.

Her old scars were still there too, though they seemed to pale in comparison to her 'dwarf scars.' The scar from when she had an operation on her wrist, the small triangular one from where she and her brother had wrestled and he –being a good six (or was it seven?) years older had thrown her a little too hard into a TV cabinet. The scars from the multitude of times she had dislocated fingers were still present. She knew there was still a large scar in her leg from when she'd been thrown and then kicked by a horse. So she was still there, underneath it all. No matter how much changed she was still who she had become through the trials and tribulations of her life.

A knock came at the door and Khayl hurriedly threw on the tunic, which wasn't her own and was a little too loose. She was slightly disgruntled that her reminiscing her been interrupted, for she had been excited at how much she could remember about those scars of hers. It was intriguing to say the least.

But she opened the door with a soft, expectant smile anyway, coming face to face with a short, sturdy looking dwarrowdam. The smile faltered, but she forced it to remain in place. She had been expecting Argo.

"Hello?" she said, but couldn't help it when it came out sounding like a question. This dwarrowdam with her tightly bound and woven black hair and simple, homely dress was utterly unfamiliar to Khayl, and she wasn't sure how she should respond.

"You must be Khayl!" The dwarrowdam exclaimed with broad smile that could melt snowy mountain peaks. Her dark features were split by a row of pearly white teeth and her sky blue eyes swam with mirth.

"I am," Khayl replied, still stunned. Then she remembered her niceties and swept a bow, grimacing as her head swum slightly. "At your service."

"I'm Mila, wife of Aro, brother to Argo. It's a true pleasure to finally make your aquaintence Khayl!" Khayl couldn't help the smile the crept onto her features at the exuberant dwarrowdam's rapid speech. Argo had spoken little about his family in all their time together, but he had laughed fondly about Mila, referring to her as 'the worst thing to ever happen to my big brother! She turned him into a real sap!'

"Truly the pleasure is all mine, lady Mila." The wife of Aro shook of her pretty words with a decidedly un-ladylike snort.

"I'm no lady, dear. Just call me Mila," her smile was infectious and radiant and Khayl felt herself grinning right along with her. "And I expect this meeting will be all the more pleasurable when I bust you out of this place!"

"Indeed." Khayl replied, wondering if Mila's entire family had something against the healing halls –not that Khayl had enjoyed her stay much at all. Thus far Argo had visited once and only to leave some clothes for his apprentice. Other than that he had avoided the place like the plague.

But Khayl didn't have time to ponder on it for any longer because Mila was whisking her out into the hall and leading the way to freedom. The older dam smiled and nodded jovially at everyone they passed and it seemed like she knew _everyone. _She called to some and teased others and Khayl found herself enjoying this strange brand of company. There was no need for her to speak, and unlike others of her temperament, Mila made no move to draw her into conversations that she was obviously unwilling to be a participant of. Being in her company was exhaustive though and Khayl found herself wishing the journey would end before they were even out of the mountain halls.

But then they were and Mila seemed to notice something for she went blissfully quiet. Her chatter had reminded Khayl a little of Kili and his rather incessant chatter and guilt clawed at her. In her excitement to be out of that claustrophobic infirmary room Khayl had quite forgotten to inform that she was escape – er, being released from the healer's care. But she didn't dwell on it because she had the sun and the wind on her face and that cool, crisp mountain scent on her tongue.

Khayl remembered none of their journey into Ered Luin, most likely since she had been rather unconscious at the time, and so was seeing it all with fresh, bright eyes. Mila found her curiosity highly amusing but was far too excited to introduce her to her family. The young dwarrowdam could tell that the matron would love to babble on and on about her husband and her children, but was restraining herself for the sake of the introductions. Khayl was rather glad of it since she hated meeting people that she already knew about. It made for uncomfortable, stand-off type situations where each tries to guess what the other knows about them.

So Mila led the young dwarrowdam through the town, waving and chattering to everyone who came across her path, but always on the move. She was far too excited to stop, not even for Khayl who was finding this sudden bought of exercise draining after so long abed. But then they were out of the main town a ways, walking down a narrow path that curled beside a low stone wall.

The first sight of the house almost stopped Khayl in her tracks for it was low slung but with a second story. It was an impressive combination of skilled masonry and wooden beams. Of to one side was a low smithy and beyond the house was a paddock with a donkey, a mule, two ponies and a black horse. Khayl couldn't stop her feet as they carried her to the fence and then between the railing. She whistled two ascending notes and then a low one and the black horse threw its head up before calling out and cantering towards her. Argo's sister-in-law was forgotten somewhere behind her. Khayl cradled Prour's large, black head in her hands and soothingly stroked his velvety muzzle.

"It's good to see you too," she said, for certainly she wasn't sure what had happened to him after he had carried her into Ered Luin. She rubbed one of his ears roughly and laughed as he leaned into the touch like a cat.

"Khayl!" A gruff voice called behind her. The copper-haired female turned and grinned broadly at Argo who stood on the other side of the fence with a smile of epic proportions beneath his salt and pepper beard.

"Argo!" she cried in response and strode towards him, Prour keeping pace at her side. "Was I unworthy of your visitations whilst I was trapped in those halls?"

"Er… those healers just don't like me over much," Was his response with an awkward scratch to his chin. "Besides, you were _fine." _

The grin on her face dimmed a little as she espied the family standing quietly behind Argo's broad back. The patriarch of the family stepped forward and Khayl was quite thrown to his close resemblance to Argo. If she hadn't known of the nine year difference between them she would have assumed they were twin despite Argo's beard being shorter, less grey and less elaborately braided. I suppose he looked like what a younger brother should in comparison.

"You must be Aro," Khayl said, slipping through the fence, her stomach flipping as nausea rose in her during a brief head spin. She stood before him, Argo having moved to one side. A low bow ensued. "Khayl, at your service."

"Aro, son of Burgo at yours," he said in way of formality before he shocked the dwarrowdam half out of her life by embracing her tightly, in a bone breaking way. "Everyone is indebted to you, Khayl."

"They really aren't," Khayl replied uncomfortably as he released her. She had quite forgotten what a correct response would be. "I mean, I'm just glad I could help."

"You've still done a great service, not only to our people but to all the peoples of this region." Mila came forward, looking uncharacteristically sober, but there was something else shining in her eyes, something that Khayl couldn't quite place. "Sacrificing yourself like that… it was very brave and very stupid."

Khayl couldn't help the frown that sunk onto her features at the accusation that she may or may not have imagined.

"I didn't really have a choice." Was her stiff reply. Fortunately Argo seemed to realise that she was sinking into a reclusive moment and leapt to her rescue.

"Come now! Perhaps we should introduce Khayl to your wonderful children before we all die of old age?" He said but not without shooting a questioning glance at Khayl which she resolutely ignored. He gestured to the three children, a boy and two girls, and the first stepped forward.

"Ira, at your service Miss Khayl," she introduced herself with a deft curtsey. She was obviously the eldest, a good few feet taller than the boy. Her hair was dark and elaborately wound about her head. She shared her mother's dark eyes and the first shadows of a beard were making themselves known on her chin. She was tall for a dwarrow, though not nearly as tall as Khayl. Ira still possessed the slender stature of youth. Her smile was meek, as though she didn't know what to make of this stranger. Khayl gave a nod and a warm smile in response and then Ira stepped back with another half-curtsey, like a proper lady should. She made Khayl feel rather shoddy in comparison, since her teachings with Argo never really encompassed how to be a lady among other dwarves.

"Fargo, at your service my Lady Khayl," said the stout young lad next. Khayl barked a short laugh and grinned winningly at him with his seriousness, though she could see the mirth dancing in his eyes. Unlike the rest of his family his hair was deep, dark auburn and his round childish face seemed to be constantly on the verge of a cheeky smirk or grin. He was quite young, though Khayl couldn't put an age to him. He jauntily stepped back to his place next to Ira who shot him a long-suffering look.

"And Irisa!" The little one cried, and, not wanting to be left out, she danced forward and curtseyed with a wide flourish. Even Khayl, was not over fond of children and rarely knew what to do with the little things, even she found this little girl adorable. She was all thick black curls and had her mother's broad smile with her father's dark eyes. She glanced at her mother as she bounced under Khayl's mirthful gaze and then quickly seemed to recall her manners for she bobbed another quick curtsey. "At your service!"

"Truly, it is a pleasure to meet all of you," Khayl said with enthusiasm and a truly sincere smile. But she didn't know what else to say or do in light of such an enthusiastic greeting. Fortunately, Mila had no such reservations for she came forward and slipped her arm through Khayls's, startling the young dwarrowdam some with the sudden touch.

"It is time for a meal, I think," The dwarrow-matron gave a tug and led Khayl towards the open door of the house, her family following along behind like a troupe of well-behaved ducklings.

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**A/N Wow, this chapter came out um, overly enthusiastic. I don't really know what happened here, but I spent most of my time smirking while I wrote it. I think my other writings have corrupted me somewhat Haha.**

**Special thanks to Guest – Anna, Dalonega Noquisi, Hksmith (Your support means the world!), jamber17, Maille of Midgard and Knowing Grace (Seriously, you're a freaking legend!)**

**To Guest – Anna: I'm really glad you think my story's different and – most especially – that you enjoy reading it. Seriously, it means a ton to hear you say that, so thanks.**

**And now! A moment for some shameless self-promotion! For quite some time this has been my only story on this site, indeed the only one I have written which is mostly because I've been using it to get back into the swing of writing. But now that I've done that somewhat, I've started on a second story called 'Changing Tides' as well as having posted a one-shot called 'Everything isn't Everything.' I've also started a series of one-shot's called 'Familial Bonds' which is kind of like a sequel to 'Everything isn't Everything.' Please check them out if you get a spare moment. It would seriously mean the world!**


	14. Chapter 14 Onwards and Upwards

Chapter 14: Onwards and Upwards

**A/N – Thank you to Marina Oakenshield, Dalonega Noquisi, MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever, miremi and Knowing Grace for your incredible reviews. You guys make the sun shine!**

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Khayl sighed and shifted the weight of the heavy bundle on her shoulder. Argo, ahead of her with a load of his own, glanced back and she could swear that she saw his beard twitch but whether he was laughing at her or he was feeling somewhat sympathetic she couldn't tell. She couldn't be bothered to try either.

In truth, she was hot, sweaty, tired, grumpy and her _head… _it ached something fierce.

This was the first day she hadn't been forced to tramp back to the healing halls inside the mountain – three times a day! - and receive the horrible, viscous _stuff_ that they laughingly called a tonic. She'd been getting much better lately, fewer head-spins and nauseous moments and less faint-headedness. At least, Khayl had thought she was improving, and so did everyone else around – or that at least got sick of her grumbling – so the healers had deemed her healthy and able to return to light duties at the forge. Khayl had been overjoyed and practically thrown herself into the work, not wishing to sit around feeling sorry for herself any longer.

That had been first thing that very morning and now Khayl was severely regretting ever dragging her sorry behind out of bed that morning. If she was back in her own world she would say that she felt like she'd been hit by a road-train, but seeing as she wasn't and no one would understand what she meant anyway she settled for cantankerous grumbles about a herd of oxen. She didn't tell Argo though; he seemed so happy to have her back under his wing after her near-death experience and resultant bed rest that she had no desire to darken his joy.

Neither did Khayl wish to remind her mentor that she _had _nearly died. A few moments later and they would have been attending a funeral – admittedly not a well-attended one. She knew that Argo was harbouring a deep sense of guilt over what had happened, but she found that as much as she thought unnecessary she couldn't blame him; she would feel exactly the same in his position. She figured that it was similar to survivor's guilt, or pretty much the same thing.

Yet she couldn't help but wonder if this sense of guilt was deepened since he hadn't been able to accompany the warriors who went off to confront the orcs and return a semblance of piece to this part of the world. He had accepted, with no small amount of grumbling, that he wouldn't be permitted to join them due to injury and exhaustion. But he undoubtedly felt like he had failed by allowing such 'small' things get the better of him. Argo also felt like he had let his kin down since his brother had been unable to journey forth either given an old leg injury.

Sometimes Khayl wondered if the dwarves in that family weren't all overly honourable do-gooders.

Maybe that was why she was pushing herself so hard. If it was then she wished she would just stop making life so darned hard for herself.

"Are you coming or are you just going to stagger around with that grumpy expression on your face all day?" Argo called to her from in front. A _considerable _way in front. Huffing Khayl jogged to catch up with him and shot him a look when she did so. "Ach, don't look me like that!"

"Like what?" Khayl responded innocently even as she tried to fry his brains with her eyes. Not that it was possible through _his _thick skull.

"Like I've done you some great disservice,"

"I have a look for that?" Khayl wondered aloud. Argo just glanced at her with a smirk tugging at his beard.

"Aye, it's a wounded one like someone just kicked you in the shins." He responded.

"Firstly, when have you ever seen anyone kick me in the shins? And secondly, if someone _did _kick me in said shins my look would be more one of vengeful rage as I pummelled them into the dirt."

To that there was naught Argo could do but snort a response. Well, aside from stop and look Khayl up and down from top to toe.

"What now?" She grumbled. Argo shrugged and continued to walk, hefting the bundle on his shoulder far easier than Khayl could manage.

"Nothing," A pause then; "I was just wondering what you would have been like as a child."

"Really? That's weird. Oft times I wonder what you would have been like as a grumpy old person, but then I recall that your 'old' days are really in the past." Argo gave her a look that said he would very much like to smack her upside the head. After a moment Khayl heaved a sigh and relented, attempting to dredge up some half-forgotten memories of herself as a child.

"Hmm… let's see. I was a very quiet child – " to which Argo barked a disbelieving laugh and Khayl shot him a glare. " - Solemn and probably acting far older than I was. I was very solitary, though I suppose I still am mostly. I was pretty obedient too, a good kid compared to most of the others. My mum said the worst thing about raising me was my endless supply of terrible sarcasm."

Khayl narrowed her eyes as she tried to get a memory of her mother's face to smile at her. She had a feeling that the problem didn't only lay in her faulty memory, but in the fact that her mother had rarely smiled. She was a stern sort of woman, but not adverse to a laugh at someone else's expense and joke – her own jokes were terrible and the sort of thing one could go their entire life without hearing even once.

"But then again, my mother never liked children so I'm actually rather surprised I survived. Even more so that my elder brother did. I think that's what happened to him; he was the practice run." Khayl sniggered a bit at that, remembering some of the numerous hilarious tales that had accompanied the raising of her big brother. Briefly she recalled that he was married and had a new daughter before she left. "I suppose I was intelligent; I was reading a lot from a young age. But I was very, very adventurous. Reading was all well and good, so long as I was far from other people and living an adventure of my own."

"You sound like a good child," Argo said soberly and Khayl felt like she was missing something, cause really, what the heck bought this conversation on?

"Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't; can you really expect me to tell you anything but the good stuff?"

"I don't need you to; you're a good person and that's good enough for me." Argo hesitated for a moment and glanced away from her towards the mountain peaks. The dwarrowdam wondered what he was trying to hide. "Your parents would be proud."

"My parents…" Khayl narrowed her eyes at him with a hint of a smirk playing around her lips. "Or you…?"

Argo looked back at her and inclined his head with a crooked grin dancing beneath his salt and pepper beard.

"Come on, once we've finished with this load you can have the rest of the day off."

Cheered by that prospect Khayl strode side by side with him, a newfound bounce in her step.

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Khayl exhaled and rolled the tight sinew of the bowstring between her fingers. The leather grip beneath her other hand was rough, worn and almost damaged beyond use. She knew she would have to replace the leather on the full length of the bow before much longer. It was something she had been putting off since she first showed up in Middle-Earth.

The first time she had replaced the covering was a few months before going through that damn portal with Katie –who strayed into her thoughts often – and her brother had been the one to help her cut, tie and bind it into place, even though he had a thousand other, more important things to do. Instead they had sat together on a parched piece of struggling lawn and spent a good few of hours doing something that would only have taken half an hour or so if they'd had the mind. It had been finished with no small amount of pride and decent dosing of friendly banter between them.

It was a memory she clung to dearly, and one that she forced herself to drag to the forefront of her mind every time she looked at the old bow with its careworn appearance. Perhaps she was just afraid that if she lost the visual connection to that memory, she would lose the memory along with it. That was how it seemed to work anyway.

Khayl growled at the thought and brought the bow up to her face, allowing the tautness of the weapon to grab a hold of her anger. The arrow flights tickled her cheekbone and her thumb came out and rested behind her jaw as she held the pose for a moment. Then she drew the thumb back in and released with the fluid motion that had taken her years to master.

Always she had been told that she released the arrow like she was trying to 'throw' it away, rather than letting it go under its own steam. Khayl's defence for her actions –because, let's face it, there always has to be a _reason _we screw up – was that she was just trying to get her hand out of the way. No one had ever gone any further than demonstrating though and so she had been forced to discover the secret of it all in her own time. In the end that had made victory all the sweeter.

The dwarrowdam stilled her wandering thoughts and loosed the remainder of her quiver in quick succession. Each arrow found the border about the second to central ring and they were fairly evenly spaced. The last arrow arced through the air and landed smack-bang in the centre. Khayl stifled a grin and rolled her shoulders.

"You weren't kidding when you said you could shoot a bow!" someone called from behind her. Khayl's head whipped around at the familiar taunting tone and she smirked briefly at Kíli.

"Apparently I don't actually need to exaggerate my skills," Khayl replied as he walked towards her getting a headshake in response. They walked down the field together in companionable silence as she went to fetch her arrows.

"You never told me that you got out of the healing halls," Kíli said a little dejectedly as he helped her haul the shafts from the target. "I went by your room but you weren't there and it had been stripped down… I asked the healers and they just told me that you'd left. Nobody knew where."

"I'm sorry, truly I am." Khayl looked at him with her apology clearly written on her features. "I was just so excited to get _out. _They said I could go and I kind of just ran for it."

At that Kíli let out a loud laugh.

"Besides," Khayl said with a smirk. "You were supposed to be there for your brother, not me."

"Pfft, my brother doesn't need me to babysit him," Kíli waved an airy hand over his shoulder. 'Besides, he's not even in the healing halls anymore; his broken leg wasn't as bad as everyone first assumed so now he's back at home with mum hovering constantly."

Kíli watched the dwarrowdam attentively as she 'hmm'd' and they walked back up the range.

"How are you?" He asked with concern evident in his tone. Khayl flashed him a grin and gestured to the gauze on the side of her head.

"I get to take it off tomorrow; apparently it's all healed and everything, though my head still hurts quite a bit sometimes." She replied and he grumbled at her attempt to avoid his question.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," He told her sternly. "How are –"

"My dreams? Fine" Khayl said shortly which gave him no real answer to his question, but he had since learned that pushing the fiery-headed lass past a certain part just led to her shutting down.

"Well, if you ever need to talk about, I'll listen." Kíli told her with such a serious look in his eye that she couldn't help but downplay it.

"What is this? 'Be a sap to Khayl day' or something? I swear, if you and Argo have gotten together and decided that you're going to turn me into some mushy dwarrowdam with all this gentlemanly concern I'll knock your teeth in."

"I was just trying to be nice!" Kíli exclaimed in his defence before she got any ideas.

"Everyone around here's so goddamned nice sometimes that it makes me want to spew," Khayl muttered before nailing three arrows into the target in a rapid sequence. Kíli drew back and released his own arrows, aiming for the same place. Where Khayl's had all clustered together his did too, except for the one the strayed a little far to the left but then that could be blamed on the breeze.

"You obviously haven't met the greater part of Ered Luin's population." Kíli said in an off-hand kind of way. Somehow Khayl saw something that he didn't even think he'd put into the words.

"People are mean to you here?" she asked, releasing her arrow without even looking. When it hit the target in the same place as the rest of the arrows Kíli had the urge to throw down his bow and weep like a child. Miraculously though he managed to maintain his composure and settled for a nonchalant shrug.

"I get teased because of my archery and –" he caught himself before he said anymore, shooting a quick glance at Khayl.

"Kíli…" she growled sternly, seeing his slip. "Same rules apply here; you can tell me whatever,"

"People tease because I'm tall and not built like a dwarf," he admitted reluctantly. He glared when Khayl snorted with laughter.

"You _are _a dwarf, idiot." She told him. "There's no way you cannot be built like a dwarf."

"Like regular dwarf." He stated but Khayl just waved him off.

"Besides, you're not that tall. I'm taller than you, and I'm willing to be Thorin Oakenshield is too; he's almost as tall as me." The dwarrowdam said with another laugh, though it meant that she missed the indecision that flashed behind Kíli's eyes. "You just look taller because you're thin and lithe, like me!"

"You know what else?" she grinned at him.

"What?"

"People just tease because their jealous of _something. _It might not necessarily be that they're jealous of what they're teasing you about, but you've obviously got something great that they don't. Next time someone teases you just think about that; they're the ones lacking, not you."

Kíli blinked. It was that flipped-switch thing again where she took on that veteran role. How did she do it? "Thanks, I guess. I'll keep it in mind."

"Either that or just send 'em my way. I'll straighten things out for ya!" she grinned so broadly he could see her entire top row of teeth and had a feeling that it was supposed to be menacing. Strangely enough it worked. Kíli had no doubt she would do what she said if only he asked.

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**A/N – This chapter was seriously fun to write; it started off being all introspective but I definitely think you can tell where I came back from writing chapter five of 'FAMILIAL BONDS' haha. It's about where things take a turn the SmartAss-Ville. Since **_**someone **_**(I shall not point out names haha) has informed me that they've been excited for the Khayl-Argo-Family talk that remains looming on the horizon, I decide to incorporate a bit of a taster haha. Hope you liked it.**

**I do, however, hope that you like it and that I managed to brighten someone's day, or hour, or even just the five minutes you spent reading because really that's all I'm here for. So if you did enjoy it please let me know! Constructive criticism is welcome also. **

**As ever please forgive my mistakes; I can't edit to save my life, plus the 'L' key on my keyboard has decided to muck me around.**

**To all of you brilliant people who have reviewed, favourite and followed thank you, truly. **


	15. Chapter 15 Not-So-Secret Lover

**Chapter 15: Not-So-Secret Lover**

**Special thanks to Marina Oakenshield, Dalonega Noquisi, Wolves of Midnight, MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever as well as the ever wonderful Knowing Grace for you reviews.**

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Kíli was still smirking from his encounter with Khayl when he sat down to the lunch table later that day. Dís bustled about the table setting out food for her ever hungry sons and hitherto absent uncle.

The raven-haired mother, ever astute when it came to her sons, noticed the peculiar expression on the face of her youngest without delay.

"Kíli?" she asked. "What's got you in such a good mood?"

However before the younger brother could even attempt to reply Fíli was jumping in –at least figuratively; any jumping was out of reach for the blonde at that time.

"Kíli spent time with his not-so-secret lover," he said without hesitation, though Kíli hadn't told him a thing about it. Kíli choked on his 'procured' slice of apple at his brother's words.

"Lover!?" he cried in a strangled tone. "She's not my _lover!" _

"You wish she was though," was Fíli's smug reply. When his brother turned beet red he couldn't be sure if it was from embarrassment or anger, but he was betting on a little of both.

"No I don't!" Kíli restricted himself to audibly grinding his teeth for a moment so he wouldn't reach across the table and snot his crippled brother.

"Then why do you always talk about her?" Fíli wondered aloud, seemingly oblivious to his younger sibling's blusterous attempts to get him to be quiet before their mother got more intrigued than she already was.

"I do not!"

"Really? You've told me plenty of times about this most beautiful of dams with her hair like fire and more skill with a bow than you'll ever possess."

"Lads, you should know by now; only talk about beautiful dams when your mother's not in the room. Or preferably the house." Thorin told them sternly as he stepped into the kitchen.

"No, no! I want to hear this!" Dís exclaimed resting her chin in her hands at the far end of the table. "But Kíli won't talk. Do you know anything about this 'most beautiful of dwarrowdams' with bright red hair and is archer to boot?"

"I don't know about the most beautiful, since you'll always have that position, fair sister," Thorin said with a smirk and a pointed look at his nephews as Kíli coughed 'brown-nose' behind his hand. "But otherwise it sounds like Khayl if this is a recent infatuation."

"It's _not an infatuation!" _Kíli snarled, barely restraining himself from launching across the table and taking his brother to the floor, broken leg and all.

"You know this _Khayl?" _Fíli looked at Thorin and Dís wasn't far behind in echoing his sentiments.

"Course he does!" Kíli snapped, fed up with it all. "She's Argo's apprentice; the one who killed all those orcs on the road."

"And got her head smashed in for her trouble." Fíli responded haughtily.

"That's enough, boys." Thorin said in his best no-nonsense tone. "Khayl is a skilled fighter from what I've seen and that's not to be made light of Fíli. Have a little respect for the person who willingly sacrificed her life to spare others, including humans."

Fíli glared down at the table and sulked, mumbling a half-hearted apology. He was beginning to hate this dwarrowdam and he'd never even met her. How could he not though? First she took all of his brother's time and attention away and now she had Thorin shaming him in front of their mother. It was frustrating at the very least.

"As for you Kíli, are you or are you not interested in this young woman?" Trust it to Thorin to get to the crux of the matter with a few short sentences and still manage to deal with all the issues along the way.

Kíli turned red again, blushing from his neck to his ears, but whether it was from anger or embarrassment was still altogether uncertain.

"Uncle, no, I'm not –" he bit back a few chuckles at the utter ludicrousness of the very idea. "I'm not _interested _in Khayl. If I walked up to her now and suggested that I had uh, feelings for her, she would probably see it as a betrayal of her faith in me."

He looked at the absent response he got from around the table and sighed.

"She'd leave me with two black eyes and my teeth in the dirt," he said in clarification which got a better reaction. Fíli sniggered at the idea of his brother being knocked flat on his back by a _dwarrowdam _and Dís smiled, relieved that her son wasn't secretly betrothed. Thorin barked a short laugh. That sounded like Khayl all right, from what he'd seen and from what he'd heard from Argo.

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

"What're you making?" The unexpected question caused Khayl's head to whip and around so fast from her work that it made her neck twinge painfully. She glared balefully at Kíli as he stood there innocently kicking a small stone and avoiding her eye.

"A bridle, for my horse," She replied shortly, turning back to the twisted metal which had finally taken shape of the second half of the hackamore. It retained the traditional shape from back in her world, but she'd used her metal skills to create shapes and other curves in the metal. Khayl had spent hours labouring over the pieces of metal to get the geometric dwarvish designs just right and was just finishing off the final buffing.

"The black one's yours?" Kíli asked, gesturing to the paddock where Prour lay flat on his side, resting in the afternoon sunlight.

"Yes. His name's Prour."

"Huh, that's a weird name." he said with a furrowed brow. Khayl raised an eyebrow and made a wide sweeping gesture.

"Have you ever taken notice of some of the names around _here? _I mean, seriously, some of them are quite ridiculous. What is with siblings of the same gender having rhyming names anyway?" Kíli had a feeling that Khayl had been wondering these things for a quite a while and never had an answer. "Besides, Prour means 'power' in another language."

"I suppose it's not so weird after all," Kíli paused a moment before smirking. "But _your _name… now your name is just downright weird. I've never heard anything like it."

"It's a nickname," Khayl said before she could stop herself. Mentally she stuck her head in the doorframe and slammed the heavy oak door on her skull. Idiot, idiot, idiot.

"A nickname?" Kíli echoed. "I didn't know that."

"No one does, not even Argo."

"Why not? What does it stand for?"

"It – It stands for the name I had where I come from, which is not at all like this place. The same place where my family are," Khayl thought it safe to confess.

"So… what does it stand for?" Khayl growled deep in her throat, realising that Kíli was probably never going to go away if she didn't spill the beans. He was annoyingly persistent like that, though it could be adorable when he was doing it to other people.

"Mikhayla." Khayl admitted softly. The word sounded strange on her tongue, as though it wasn't her name at all, but rather that of a stranger or a foreigner.

"Mik-hay-la, Mi-khay-la," Kíli tried a few different methods of rolling the name off his tongue and found it strange and unwieldy. It sounded pretty and exotic at the same time though. But it didn't seem to fit Khayl at all. Her own name was sharper, more concise, like she was.

"Stop doing that," Khayl said with a laugh. "It's weird."

"Sorry," Kíli smirked.

"Just – just please don't tell anyone?" Khayl's voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. "That name doesn't belong to me anymore."

Though he was confused beyond belief, Kíli found himself nodding along regardless.

"It's fine; I don't like it anyway."

"Gee, thanks for that." Khayl replied with a snort. "It's not like it's the name my parents gave me or anything."

"I'm not apologising for speaking the truth!"

"When do you ever speak the truth?"

"That's a horrible and unjust accusation!"

"You've really got to stop this lying, Kíli."

"I never lie."

"_There _you go again."

Kíli stuck his tongue out impudently.

"Be that way then." Khayl huffed. "Your just jealous – "

"Jealous of what? You!? Ha!"

"You're –"

"Stop it!" Argo rumbled, striding out of the forge and wagging a formidable finger at the both of them. "You're acting like five year olds."

"I'm not that bad Uncle!" a shrill feminine cry wailed from the house. Khayl and Kíli exchanged a look and wondered how loudly they had been bickering.

"Now, Khayl, I told you to take the afternoon off, so take your friend and go and do something non-constructive." Argo growled.

"'Do something _non-constructive?'_" Khayl repeated with her eyebrows up by her hairline. "That's got to be the first time someone's _ever _told me to do that!"

"I second that," Kíli said from beside her as the smithy disappeared back into the forge. "Let's make the most of it while we can."

"What do you propose oh illustrious Mister Kíli?" Khayl knew that if there was a good time to be had in Ered Luin, Kíli was the person to see.

"We should go spar!" he said excitedly. "You fight with a sword or axe or whatever too right?"

"What kind of dwarf would I be if I didn't?" Khayl found herself responding. A moment later she was finding herself literally shunted along by Kíli as he pushed her towards Aro's house.

"I'll just be a moment if you want to come in," Khayl told him. "I think Mila was making some cookies or tarts last I checked. She's never shy to hand out food, particularly to those of us who look like we could us a good feed haha!"

Khayl left Kíli next to the kitchen rubbing his bruised ribs as she tramped upstairs. Her weapons were easily accessible yet kept safe from the wandering fingers of little ones on a tall rack beside the door. She took only her sword down, assuming that would be sufficient for a friendly spar – if there was such a thing. She also slipped on her iron-faced gauntlets which she tended to use for several of her best manoeuvres.

She was just about to leave her room when she caught sight of herself in the mirror.

Khayl stopped short. Last time she had looked in a mirror was in the healing halls a few days ago, and for the most part she had looked very much the same. But now… now her eyes were brighter and her cheeks were flushed slightly beneath her tan in a way they hadn't since she was a child. The gauze on the side of her face was so stark and white in contrast to her skin, eyes and hair that it looked painful.

Without a moment's hesitation Khayl gently peeled it away, one of her hands splayed so that her fingers kept the skin underneath pulled tight and the other gradually pulling the sticky material of her face. Once it was gone she turned her head and stood right up close to the glass of the little mirror.

The scar wasn't like any of those that decorated her body. The marks were thin and laced across her skin like a spider web or a cracked piece of glass. They were still pink and puckered, but that would take time. The thickest and most apparent began (or ended) in the very corner of her eye, and Khayl surmised that she had been lucky not to lose it. It then went out a little and at the corner of her eye socket dropped across her check before cutting towards her ear. The other most apparent mark ran up from the same position, through her eyebrow and back towards her hair line stopping about an inch from it. There were numerous other smaller scars threaded throughout the area and they kind of all curled into one another. Vaguely Khayl was reminded of one of those Celtic knot things.

Surprisingly though –since it _was _a scar – it wasn't ugly or unsightly; it was simply _there. _It seemed as much a part of her as the freckles that dotted her cheeks and nose – and pretty much every other part of her body since freckles aren't overly choosy. When they faded and became silvery they would look as though she had always been there. A relic of times past. Memory.

Khayl shook her head loose of such thoughts and smiled quickly at herself, simply glad that she hadn't lost any teeth or her eye. Scars she could deal with but she was rather attached to the rest of her body parts.

Figuring she had kept Kíli waiting long enough she ran deftly back down the stairs, probably not taking as much caution as she should have though since she very nearly tripped and ended up fast first on Mila's floor. But she managed to save herself with an awkward hop and a shoulder to the wall.

"Khayl, stop falling down the stairs!" Mila called from the kitchen and the young dwarrowdam huffed as she walked in, snatching some freshly baked cookies as she did.

"I didn't fall."

"With you there's hardly a difference between falling down stairs and walking down them placidly, except you're utterly incapable of the latter." Mila told her with one eyebrow raised whilst she handed a plate of cookies to Kíli.

"You're giving him a _plate _of cookies!?" Khayl exclaimed, thinking how proud she had been of the two she managed to snag. Her hand crept out almost of its own volition but Mila's wooden spoon was faster and left her knuckles stinging.

"They're for his mother, uncle and _injured _brother," Mila growled, warning Khayl away with another wave of that spoon. "And if they don't get there…"

"They will! I swear it!" Khayl said hurriedly before she made a break for the door, miraculously managing to grab another cookie on the way out. She silently praised her quick, archer reflexes. "Hurry Kíli!"

"Why are we running!?" He yelled as he sprinted after her. He prided himself of being a fast runner, but, yet again, Khayl out did him. She made running look effortless.

"Because we can!" She called back and he laughed breathlessly and put on another turn of speed.

A hundred metres from his house they slowed to a walk, laughing hysterically at some of the looks they had received towards their maddened dash. Kíli still had the plate of cookies still clutched firmly out in front of him. Khayl couldn't believe he hadn't dropped it by now – she certainly would have. Or she would have eaten the cookies. Either way, Mila would have killed her then resurrected her so the Kíli's mother could murder her _again _for robbing her off her cookies. Dwarrow-matrons were funny like that, scary too.

"You should probably prepare yourself before you meet my family," Kíli said with a strange hint of foreboding as they stood before the front door.

"They're that bad?" Khayl asked with a hint of a smile. Kíli hesitantly grinned back.

"Something like that," he said before he pushed open the door. "Mother?"

"In the kitchen!"

"Of course she is," Kíli huffed good-naturedly. They stepped into the kitchen where his mother was bent over the stove. "Mother, I'd like you to meet Khayl,"

The dwarrowdam that turned to face Khayl was exquisitely beautiful, even with the slightly startled look she bore. Her eyes were a crystalline blue like pale sapphires and her hair was like a flowing shawl of darkest ebony. Her porcelain features creased into a welcoming smile and Khayl found herself returning the expression in kind.

"It is truly a pleasure to meet you, dear Khayl. My name is Dís. Kíli has told us a great deal about you,"

"The pleasure is all mind, Lady Dís," Khayl said, fighting back the blush that threatened to blaze across her cheeks. She felt unworthy to even stand in this matron's presence.

"Fíli!" Dís called abruptly and Khayl recognised the sound of Kíli's brother's name. "There's someone here for you to meet!"

An uneven tapping echoed across the floor of the house and then Fíli came into view, glowering at everything in sight.

Now, when Khayl had first laid eyes upon Kíli she had thought him quite handsome, and she had no doubts that she still retained her sense of men from when she had been a human. Fíli on the other hand… Fíli was painfully beautiful, the type of good-looking that makes people weep and kiss the ground as they pass. If he had of been back in her world he would have won 'World's Hottest Man' year after year until he died. Khayl was sure she had never seen any male who was quite so attractive…

"Who's this?" he snapped. "Oh, wait, you must be _Khayl_,"

"A pleasure to meet you," Khayl replied in the flattest voice she could manage. Well, he had been attractive, till he opened his fat mouth.

"Fíli!" Dís snapped, outraged at the behaviour of her eldest son. Before she could reprimand him further the front door opened and closed in rapid succession.

"Dís?" a low masculine voice called.

"Kitchen." The Lady Dís snapped in way of response, still glaring daggers at Fíli who did his best to direct them towards Khayl. The heavy tramping of boots led their way and Kíli and Khayl moved further into the kitchen and moved to accommodate the new arrival.

"Did you forget something, uncle?" Fíli asked and Khayl's ears pricked at the word uncle, then she nearly fainted dead away as Thorin Oakenshield stepped into the kitchen, his eyes catching hers and holding them in a vice-like grip.

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**A/N - *sighs* this chapter was weird. Kíli was awesome. Fíli was a total dick. Thorin was … well Thorin-y and Dís … yeah I have no idea what I'm doing with her yet haha. I hope you liked it though! **

**There was plenty of dialogue too, which I haven't done much of lately, so that was a nice change. I especially like writing Khayl and Kíli bickering like little kids; they're just too much fun! **

**Anyway, please please review! I mean, seriously, one word. If you're enjoying to story just jot down like a word or a sentence or something! It'd make my story look better, which means other people could enjoy too! okay, now I'm sounding needy… please just review. **

**Hopefully the 50 review mark soon which would be incredible since this is my first fanfic and especially considering we've not even gotten to the quest yet! (Two reviews to 50!)**

**To all those wonderful people who review, favourite and follow, THANKYOU! You are seriously legends, all of you. Every time my phone buzzes and flashes with a blue light I do an internal –and sometimes external – scream of joy. And since most of this happens in the middle of the night considering most of you seem to live on the other side of the world… Anyway! Have a good day/night/week/whatever!**


	16. Chapter 16 Surprise Surprise

Chapter 16: Surprise Surprise

**You people are so wonderful! Thanks you bundles for the reviews, favourites and follows! It's nice to know people are enjoying this story thus far.**

_**Recap: **__"Did you forget something, uncle?" Fíli asked and Khayl's ears pricked at the word uncle, then she nearly fainted dead away as Thorin Oakenshield stepped into the kitchen, his eyes catching hers and holding them in a vice-like grip. _

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A multitude of possible reactions ran through Khayl's brain as she stared a little vacantly at Thorin Oakenshield.

Punching Kíli in the side of the head for his negligence probably wasn't a good idea, though she promised herself to get some payback later. She could bow, smile, shake his hand or fainting still remained a possibility. Surprisingly or unsurprisingly punching Kíli still looked like a decent plan. It would alleviate some of the tension that had suddenly bloomed. But Khayl held in the impulse and compromised on the other ideas.

"My Lord Oakenshield," she said stiffly, with the tug of a smile and a slight bow. Even in her own world she had never been good at dealing with people of supposed importance, so no matter how hard she tried all of those formalities just sounded wrong. To her surprise though the dwarf prince just waved off her words and looked at her with an expression that was about as close to a soft smile as she was going to get.

"There's no need to address me thus," He told her in that flat way of his so she smiled softly again and inclined her head slightly.

"Then I would like it noted that I am no Lady, sir." To which Dís and Kíli chuckled slightly. Thorin's head dipped slightly in response.

"What brings you here then?" he asked, voice low and rumbling. It was hard to tell whether he was genuinely curious or just being polite.

"Khayl and I were just off to spar!" Kíli jumped in, much to Khayl's relief. She still hadn't forgiven him for not fully forewarning her. "I just had to get my gear."

Thorin nodded, as though this answer was to his liking, though Khayl didn't miss the twisted look that passed across Fíli's face. His eyes caught hers and the loathing in them made her want to take several steps backwards.

"I might come by when I've finished what I'm doing," He said, and Khayl just barely managed to prevent her brow from furrowing in confusion. Why would _Thorin Oakenshield _want to watch them spar?

"I would like that uncle!" Kíli exclaimed, and Khayl nodded a little numbly, bewildered as she was by such an offer. It seemed out of character to her. But Kíli seemed fine with it, and he obviously knew Thorin far better than she did.

"Best go get your things then," Dís chided gently.

"Aye, mum," was his reply. The brunet went to dash away before remembering the plate of cookies that he still clutched to his chest. "Oh, Lady Mila asked me to bring you these cookies. She also said it would be wise to keep them away from Khayl!"

He dashed off before said dwarrowdam could deck him. Dís shook her head slowly and placed the cookies on the table, though well out of Khayl's reach.

"You'd think he would no better not to provoke someone he's about to spar with," She said with a small grin provoking a small bark of laughter from Khayl. Fíli continued to glare and Thorin shot her a speculative look. She wondered whether he was actually mulling over her capabilities.

"You would think," Khayl responded just as Kíli rushed back in with his sword at his hip.

"Would think what?" he asked and was ignored.

"I see your injury is healing well, Khayl." Thorin said abruptly, and Khayl felt her hand drift towards the now exposed patch of marred skin, but caught herself half way.

"Yeah, feeling better every day," the words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them and she mentally kicked herself. She had found that no matter how hard she tried she just couldn't shake the habit of saying 'yeah' and adopt the more culturally acceptable 'aye.' The proper response to the dwarf lord's question would have been 'aye' or 'yes sir.' But aside from a few bemused looks no one questioned it.

"You took the bandage off!" Kíli exclaimed and Khayl sighed before aiming a deft blow at his shoulder.

"You are the singularly most unobservant person I have ever met," she told him, which elicited a snort from the blonde across the table.

"We'll see when I beat you so bad that you beg for mercy from my superior skills!" Kíli responded. Khayl scoffed.

"If you're sword skills are like your archery skills, I needn't worry overmuch I think!" to which Kíli blushed a delicate shade of pink and barely restrained himself from making a derogatory remark concerning Khayl and elves considering he was still in his uncle's presence.

"You'd best be going then, before other dwarrow get off work and want to beat each other's brains out too," Dís said with a fond smile, shooing the pair out of the kitchen with a cooking each and shooting Khayl a conspiratorial wink when no one else was looking.

Dís re-entered the kitchen and exchanged a look with her brother.

"I like her," she decided, smiling slightly.

"She seems a good lass," Thorin conceded.

"I'm glad you've all taken so well to the woman who's all but stolen my little brother," Fíli snapped, rising from his chair and beginning the laborious hall of limping down the hall. Dís sighed softly as the irregular clacking of his crutches receded.

"Oh, Fíli…"

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

Khayl waited until they were out the door, around the corner and walking down a secluded street before she reached and solidly punched Kíli in the shoulder. She nodded to herself, feeling much better as he cursed and stumbled.

"What was _that _for!?" he whined, rubbing the already blossoming bruise.

"_You should prepare yourself before you meet my family." _Khayl said with a shrill rendition of the words Kíli had said to her before they entered the house.

"At least I gave you a little warning," he grumbled.

"A little _warning? _I was expected your family to be … I don't know! Totally overbearing or overwhelming, or _something_!"

"That wasn't overwhelming enough for you?" Kíli asked incredulously. "I find it overwhelming every time I walk through the door, and _I've _lived with them my whole life."

"You know what I mean," Khayl growled, beyond frustrated with the young male dwarf. "I wasn't really expecting Thorin Oakenshield to just wander in! And he's your _uncle!"_

"You're taking this really well you know," Kíli said in a flat tone. Khayl immediately realised that something was wrong. For Kíli to use a tone like that was just … unnatural.

"What's the matter?" She asked softly and almost laughed. Kíli looked so startled at the sudden change of demeanour.

"Nothing," he muttered, but only got a sceptically raised eyebrow in response. "It's just, I didn't tell you because people always treat me different."

"Walking out the door and punching you was me treating you differently?" This time both eyebrows were up around her hairline.

"If you weren't treating me any different you would have just hit me straight away."

"That wasn't for your sake, idiot," she found it necessary to say. "I just didn't feel like being executed for assaulting royalty."

"I'm not royalty, not really." Kíli told her, keeping his eyes focused on his boots.

"If your uncle took back the mountain, you and your brother would be princes, wouldn't you?" Khayl asked. She had been learning a bit more about Erebor and the dwarves of Ered Luin since she had arrived there and been freed from the healing halls, though it was instinct rather than gossip that told her that Thorin didn't have any children. He just didn't have that fatherly look about him. In fact, she would almost feel sorry for any children he might have had. "You and Fíli would be the heirs?"

"Yes, but in our family we don't really use our titles. None of us feel we deserve them since our people aren't even united anymore." He sighed deeply. Both dwarves slipped on a leather jerkin that smelt of stale sweat. "We're just exiles; we've lost our land, our teachings, large chunks of our culture and history. What do we really have left?"

"You have each other," Khayl said shortly, stopping Kíli before they walked onto the sparring fields. "The community here is strong and prosperous; people aren't hungry or desperate for work. Children play freely in the streets. And you're free. What more could you truly want?"

"My uncle has been telling my brother and I stories of Erebor since before we can remember. Stories of its grandeur and wealth." Kíli was avoiding her eyes now. "He misses it so."

"Only a fool holds on to the shadows of the past, for we all know that shadows are impossible to hold and fade away eventually." Khayl told him softly, touching Kíli's arm gently.

Kíli looked up quickly, his expression sharp, pulling away from her touch. "My uncle is no fool." He snapped. "He is right to dwell on the Lonely Mountain; it is the home of our people. Surely you can understand that? It is the hall of our forefathers."

Khayl felt a strange twinge in her gut. It was a piercing reminder that she wasn't actually one of the dwarrow, no matter how hard she tried or how long she pretended. "I meant no offence, Kíli, truly I didn't. I only meant that you would be better to focus what you have in front of you, not that which is all but impossible."

"I know," Kíli sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry for snapping like that. You weren't deserving of it."

Khayl smiled. "Then let us oust these ill wills with a good fight, my friend!"

Kíli threw back his head and laughed, the tension leaving him in an instant, and lead the way onto the broad area of flat dirt that was used to hone skills and vent anger.

"We can start with sparring swords if you like?" he suggested politely. He had started sparring with live steel a few decades ago, but he thought it only polite to ask Khayl, since he didn't know her skills or how she usually trained. Plus, she was a lady. He had never sparred against a dwarrowdam before. Well, aside from Olg, but no one was one hundred per cent sure whether Olg was a female or a male, so that didn't really count. And with Olg it wasn't so much sparring as avoiding being pummelled into the ground. He expected fighting with Khayl to go a little differently.

"Nah, if you would I would like to fight with my usual blade," Khayl said, exposing said weapon with a flourish. Kíli eyed the weapon with interest. It was made in a far different style to what he was accustomed to with Ered Luin's iron smiths.

This blade was about the standard length for a dwarven hand-and-a-halfer but its blade broadened considerably at the tip. The metal was dark but the twin blood channels were bright silver. In the broad head of the blade were two matching triangles that followed the shape of the weapon where the metal had been removed. Kíli expected it was to lighten the weight of it and still allow rapid slices. It was a formidable looking blade, held by a rather confident looking dwarrowdam.

"Shall we begin?" Kíli said and swept a low bow as he drew his blade. Khayl inclined her head and the two of them took up their guards. Kíli's was low, and to the forefront while Khayl's was one handed and aggressive.

It was perhaps not expected that she allowed him to make the first move then, but she did, and deftly side stepped as he swung through with a heavy diagonal cut, catching the blade on her own with a spine chilling ring. Khayl smirked and winked at him as they held that pose for a moment before her other hand found the hilt of her sword and she pushed him away.

Khayl made no move to follow the dark-haired dwarf as he took a few steps back and righted himself. So it was down to him to instigate the attack again. This time he went more cautiously, slicing from down low and letting his blade slide off hers when it came up to intercept. He turned the slice into a thrust and Khayl stepped aside again, bringing her sword up and sending his sliding past her waist. She knocked it down with the gauntlet on her left hand and drove the elbow of her other arm into Kíli's chest as he staggered forward under the weight of his movement.

Kíli flinched and jerked back, rolling his shoulders to loosen his chest again. She was so damned fast. He hardly saw her moving before his blade was being deflected out of the way. He hadn't seen her strike out at him at all when that elbow smashed into his chest… but it was her style that was most confusing. She didn't incorporate many solid moves that forcibly knocked his blade aside; rather she used his own momentum against him letting his blows slide past instead of bashing them out of the way.

He wasn't given much time to ponder it though, for Khayl was the one to come at _him _this time with a two-handed overhead slice that could carve a person in half. Kíli spun out of the way and stabbed towards her chest but her wrist flicked up and the hilt of her sword caused his to jerk out of the way. The dwarrowdam went for his now unprotected side and Kíli dropped one of the hands he had on his blade so he could get it through in time. The impact of steel on steel sent shockwaves down his blade and into his wrists, but years of conditioning proved their worth and he struck out with a quick kick to her knee. She adjusted the position of the joint just before he could connect and he got nothing but a grunt for his efforts.

They went on that way for quite some time, trading a flurry of blows from blades, hilts and boots. A knee or two snuck in here and there. Neither of the young dwarves noticed the sparring grounds that slowly filled or the eager eyes that watched their duel. Neither of them was being overly aggressive, but they weren't being shy about the blows they traded either. Kíli and Khayl, the prince and the outsider, fought without the intent to win. They simply fought in good company and good spirits, testing and teasing one another. It was impossible to tell which the better fighter was since they fought not as warriors, but as friends. But by the Valar they had skill, few dwarves were trained to such a calibre in those days.

"You know, I expected better from you," Kíli panted as he ducked a whistling cut that would have taken his skull with it. "Having trained with Argo and all."

Khayl barked a short laugh as she leapt back from Kíli's responding stab that would have disembowelled her in an eye blink. "I've only been with Argo for five years. Before that I'd never held a sword in my life."

Kíli for his part nearly dropped his blade out of sheer shock and just barely managed bring it up to lock with the dwarrowdam's. "What!? I thought you had been training all your life, like me!"

"I've trained most every day under a most skilled warrior, Kíli. I would be ashamed, and so too would Argo I think, if I did not have some considerable skill to show for it." She told him with a small smile as they pushed against one another, muscles bunching.

"What did you do before you met him then?" Kíli asked, almost desperately. Khayl shot a quick glance at the growing number of dwarves who were watching them keenly.

"Perhaps I'll tell you another time, alright?" she said, getting a begrudging nod in response. She looked at his face, red and sweating with exertion, and knew she didn't look much better at this point. "Are you done?"

Kíli scoffed and pushed harder against her. Khayl smiled. Stubborn dwarves and their accursed pride.

"Well, I am. Draw?" Kíli seemed to agree eagerly now that she had been the first to admit being tired. They pushed against one another once again and their blades parted with a slither. Each took two steps back to give the other some space and then they gave a smile and a nod as blades were returned to sheaths, the two friends just barely restraining themselves from panting like dogs.

There was a murmur among the amassed dwarves and suddenly a broad figure was striding through them, pushing others aside with no thought.

"Found yourself a half-blood girl elfling?" a jeering, brutish voice called. Khayl barely managed to stop her jaw from dropping as she turned and caught sight of the figure. Kíli groaned from behind her. The figure was of average height but above average girth, though what was muscle and what was not Khayl couldn't tell. A sparse black beard hung from their face like a dead cat and beady black eyes shone out from under thick brows.

Now, dwarves aren't the prettiest race in all of Middle Earth – far from it – but this dwarf was possibly the ugliest being Khayl had ever had the displeasure of seeing. In comparison orcs and goblins looked downright attractive! A broad, squashed nose – well, a broad, squashed face really, there was nothing defined about their features whatsoever. It all kind of just looked mashed together. Clearly this person had been repeatedly dropped as a child. Disturbingly enough, a snaggle-fang peeked out from twixt their thin lips.

"Olg…" Kíli breathed and Khayl quirked her eyebrow at him. Evidently Kíli knew this … this monstrosity.

"Friend of yours?" she muttered as this 'Olg' continued to get closer.

"Uh, no?" was Kíli's response and Khayl realised that this must've been one of the people he had talked about teasing him. This thought held firmly in her mind the dwarrowdam turned fully about and squared up her shoulders, standing a good head and a bit above the hideous creature that was Olg. Annoyingly though, the grouping of dwarves refused to dissipate and just continued to watch in relative silence, the rattle of coins passing through them.

"Well, _girl, _you half elf like Loverboy here?" Khayl's eye brows shot up to her hairline even as her eyes narrowed.

"Firstly, he's not my lover; secondly, no I'm not half elf, neither is Kíli for that matter; and thirdly, but most importantly, _who the Hell are you?" _At first Khayl had spoken in a normal conversation tone, but at her third point was spoken in a tone so cutting it sent a chill down his spine.

"_Ooh_, the elf-spawn's got a temper," Olg said with a snort. "But a half-blood like you isn't going to scare me you little twig."

"Perhaps we'll have to do something about that,"

"Perhaps you should take your little tree humping buddy and –"

What Olg expected them to do was lost amid a strangled cry as Khayl's fist snapped out and collided with the other dwarf's nose, causing their head to rock back and the cartilage to break with an audible 'crack' and a spray of blood. Olg sat down _hard _clutching that horrible squat nose.

"C'mon Loverboy, we're done here," Khayl said with a smirk to Kíli, who watched no wide-eyed as the dwarf who had taunted him all his youth sat on the ground with blood streaming from their nose and tears in their eyes. Khayl rubbed her knuckles deftly as they walked away, the small crowd parting before them with a few laughs and cheers. They shucked the jerkins and tossed them back on the pile.

"Wow. I can't believe you just did that. I mean – wow…" Kíli was blinking rapidly, almost as though it had been _him _that had been punched in the head. "You punched _Olg…"_

"Yeah, well _Olg _had it coming." Khayl said with a deft smile. "I can take a lot of rubbish that's dished out at me, but no one teases my kin, or my friends,"

"Thanks Khayl. I mean it,"

"Not a problem Loverboy," she teased, laughing at Kíli's groan.

"You're never going to let that go, are you?" he said, presuming the answer.

"Nope," She hesitated. "Uh… this is going to sound weird, but is Olg a male or – heaven forbid – a female?"

"You know, I've known Olg all my life and never figured it out," Kíli mused.

"Olg is a she," a stern voice said, causing the youths to whirl about and for Khayl to slap a hand over her racing heart.

"Mahal!" she cried, before realising it was Thorin.

"Not quite," was the wry response which elicited a chuckled from both the younger dwarves, albeit Khayl's was a little nervous.

"Did you see uncle?" Kíli asked excitedly.

"I did," the dwarf lord replied in the same monotone. Panic seized Khayl and she wondered whether she was going to be reprimanded or thrown in jail or something – despite the general goodwill of the other dwarves who had been present. "You both fought well. And thank you for standing up for my nephew."

"It is not my way to leave a friend in dire straits." Was Khayl's response, glad that she had somehow miraculously managed to earn Thorin Oakenshield's approval and gratitude once again. She must've been doing something right it seemed.

"Kíli is lucky to have you as a friend," Thorin told her and she inclined her head. "Though I must leave you on your own for now. Kíli is needed elsewhere."

"'Tis no trouble," Khayl smiled. "Good evening to you, sir."

"I'll stop by the forge when I finish my lessons tomorrow?" Kíli was grinning broadly at her.

"Only if you promise not to introduce me to any more people who hate my guts."

"Nobody likes you when they first meet you."

"Uh, thanks?" Khayl responded, not knowing whether to be offended or not. She was hyper-aware of Thorin standing to one side with a bemused expression on his face.

"Not a problem," Kíli said and walked away, calling his farewells over his shoulder.

Khayl watched the irrepressible young dwarf trot beside his uncle's shoulder as they disappeared between the houses with a sad smile. He reminded her so much of her old friend, the one she could have loved and been loved by if only they'd realised what they'd had sooner.

The dwarrowdam found she couldn't form any feelings for Kíli though; perhaps he was too similar to the one she had lost for that to be possible. It made her sad, in a way. But he was still a fine friend to have. A very fine friend indeed.

Perhaps that was why she wasn't so afraid of him poking around in her past.

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

**Author's Note: I'm loving this Kíli-Khayl **_**thing **_**that they have going. I don't know why, but their relationship just seems to flow and I hardly have to try when I write about the two of them.**

**On another note, this was a longer chapter, with action too! I was kind of nervous about starting it, but after it got out of Dís' house I think everything went pretty sweet. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!**

**Miserable Note Regarding Author's Miserable Life: Soon I will be forced to part with one of my beloved horses, though through no fault of her own. Because of my on-going back injuries I haven't been able to ride much lately and so dearest Moo has to leave to a better home where someone can finish her education. Just keep that in mind please as I will be very down as she is a part of my family and it's technically my fault she has to be sold. So yeah, unhappy times. **

**Reviews? Please? Anybody? I got **_**two **_**last chapter. Made me sad… : ( still, two's better than none! Though I did get some awesome reviews on my one-shots! *nudge nudge***

**Oh! Is there anything you guys would like to see while in Ered Luin? Perhaps a random happening? I promised someone Bofur, so that will turn up, and there will also be a festival- thing and a funeral (probably shouldn't have told you all that… XD ), but if you want to see something let me know and I'll see if I can wedge it in somewhere XD **


	17. Chapter 17 Braids

Chapter 17: Braids

**Author's Note: Thank you so much to Dalonega Noquisi, luvgirl101, Wolves of Midnight, nienna14, Knowing Grace (double thanks haha) and MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever for your awesome reviews. They really helped me consider some parts of my story and gave rise to a few totally random plot ideas. So thanks.**

**This chapter features a lot of Irisa, Ira, Khayl and a side dose of Kíli : ) Enjoy. Read and Review.**

**~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~**

The next morning Khayl woke bleary eyed to the thin shaft of light that peaked through the shutters. She sat up in bed and glanced over at the still form of Ira and the small stirring bundle that was Irisa.

Khayl pushed herself out of bed and dressed quickly, forgoing her usual vest and fur coat in favour of a plain black tunic that fitted well and was cool enough for forge work.

"Morning," little Iris murmured as she half fell from her bed. Khayl smiled at the unruly mop of hair that bounced about as the little girl struggled to pull herself into a dress.

"Let me help you," Khayl said softly, beckoning the dwarfling closer. She helped Irisa into the dress and combed back her hair with deft hands. She braided two sections of hair and pulled them back to keep the hair out of the girl's face.

"_Dolzekh menu," _Irisa gave a broad smile, testing out her rudimentary knowledge of Khuzdul. The words meant 'thank you' and Khayl gave the little one's hair a gentle tug in response. "Can I braid your hair?"

The question caught Khayl of guard and her mind whirled back to the time when Argo had told her she should let none but her kin or her lover braid her hair. Part of her knew that Irisa must know this, so she wondered why she had offered. Perhaps, _perhaps, _there had been some unspoken consent that marked Khayl's transition into their family. If there had been, then Khayl had missed it.

"She's very good at braiding," Ira murmured from where she was almost indistinguishable from the rugs wrapped around her. "And she won't stop nagging until you let her."

Khayl looked from the big sister to the little one and smiled a little at the dwarfling who was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. "Very well then,"

Khayl stood and took out the small woven bag in which she had kept her clasps and ribbon while she had been unable to wear them. She sat on the floor and pointed Irisa in the right direction to begin her braiding. The first two were simple straight braids that hung down from her ears. It was a typical braid that represented those who were outcast or exiled. Thorin, Fíli and Dís had all worn the same braids and it fitted with Kíli's explanation that they felt they belonged nowhere but their ancestral home.

Two thick portions of hair were drawn back from just above the top of her ears and where the braids began, pulling back around and being clasped at the back of her head. These kept her ears uncovered which traditionally represented eligibility. Then all of her hair, save for the wild fringe which refused to be tamed, was drawn back and wrapped with a tight tie in the middle of her shoulder blades. One of the golden ribbons was wound around and a thick metal clasp went over the top. The same was repeated a few inches down at her mid back leaving the tail ends of her hair to hang loose. Argo had told her that keeping her hair down her back like that was once done by those who were regarded as outsiders, even among their own. Khayl thought it suited her perfectly.

"Done!" Irisa chirped happily. Khayl thanked the young one and picked up one of the braids that hung beside her face, examining the quality. Indeed, they were of superb craftsmanship which was surprising for Irisa's young age. Khayl had a nagging suspicion that they were better than what she could have done, but didn't let it bother her.

By this time Ira had also drawn herself out of bed and dressed, doing her hair up in another of those elaborate knots that she so favoured. The young dwarrowdam was very pretty in Khayl's opinion. She had hair the colour of a raven's wing and skin the colour of untouched snow. Her face was plump and broad in the way that so suited the female dwarrow. Khayl had a feeling that it wouldn't be long before the young dwarf males were falling all over themselves to try and gain her attention.

"Breakfast time?" Irisa asked innocently, taking Khayl's hand and charging to the door. The dwarfling dragged Khayl into the hall and stopped a brief moment to bash on the door to Argo's room and then the little room that her big brother occupied. Khayl wasn't even sure they were _in _their rooms, but that didn't worry the young girl. She and Ira followed the mop of dark curls down the hall and then down the stairs – with Khayl trying her utmost not to trip on the treacherous things! – and then into the kitchen.

Mila looked up from the stove and shook her head as the three of them all but ran into the kitchen, her youngest in the lead. But she set plates of bacon and sausages in front of them anyway before sitting herself down also. To Khayl's great amusement Argo and Fargo were already in the kitchen, throwing down their own breakfasts.

For a long moment there was nothing but the sound of chewing and cutlery against plates as the dwarves tucked in. Khayl assumed that Aro was already in the forge. But then Mila looked up and smiled at her.

"You've braided your hair, Khayl," she stated with an interested look.

"Irisa helped me," Khayl replied with a grin at the youngster who scowled.

"More like Irisa did it all," the dwarfling said with a pout. Khayl laughed.

"You offered!" and got nothing but a pert pink tongue poked out at her in response.

"It looks lovely," Mila told her in an effort to subdue the brewing war before it had a chance to being.

"Thank you Miss Mila," Complimenting a dwarf's braids was a big deal, since most wore the same braids every day after they came of age. So Khayl knew that such a compliment was not to be taken lightly. A slight awkwardness settled over the table. Khayl scraped the last of her food into her mouth and stood whilst still chewing, rinsing the plate briefly in the washbasin. She grinned at the rest of them and ducked out the door still trying to swallow.

Khayl smiled and threw back her head as she stepped into the early morning sunshine, an unexpected blast of heat rolling over her. It was nowhere near as hot as it would be each day where she used to live but for Middle Earth it was quite warm. Not the kind of weather that had one dashing off nude for the nearest river, but enough to create a glistening sheen of sweat upon each person's forehead.

Khayl rolled up her sleeves as she stepped into the forge and Aro quickly caught sight of her as he turned from where he'd been cooling a glowing red bar. He made several quick gestures in iglishmek and Khayl replied in kind, moving towards the indicated bench where a near-completed sword lay. The materials and design for the hilt lay nearby Khayl set to work. She forged the guard and carved the hilt out a thick, heavy wood that was dark like dried blood. A pre-carved stone pommel was attached to then end and fastened it all in place. Then the blade was polished, buffed and sharpened to a strong, keen edge.

It became routine; most dwarves enjoyed the forging and tempering of the blades where they got to beat at the metal for hours, but Khayl specialised in the final touches. So she continued working on the half-finished blades that Argo and Aro laid out for her. She forged, carved, bound, engraved, polished, buffed and sharpened.

By early-afternoon Khayl was tossed out of the forge, reminded that she wasn't supposed to be working too hard in light of her recent head injury. When she protested, Argo reminded her that if she kept working at her current pace there would be no work left for her to do.

It was just as well though, for she had just finished cleaning herself up for an impromptu lunch when Kíli called to her from behind.

"Fancy seeing you here," Khayl said without facing him, carrying two buckets of water for the household.

"I did say I would show, and after you called me a liar yesterday I couldn't not come," he said with a smirk. Khayl poured the buckets into the water barrel beside to door and turned around to grin at him.

"The truth will out," She said, before noting his wide eyes and slack face. "What's wrong?"

Kíli shook himself sharply. "Er- nothing I swear!" Khayl continued to gaze back at him with narrowed eyes.

"You look nice today," he said meekly after a moment. "You braided your hair."

"That's what this is about? Me, braiding my hair?" Khayl stared at him incredulously.

"Uh… sorry? It's just I've um – never seen your hair _braided _before," Kíli said, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. A mischievous reply formed on the tip of Khayl's tongue but she swallowed it down as someone came out the front door.

"Khay- Oh, Kíli, hi." Ira stood half in and half out the door with a shocked expression plastered all over her face.

"Ira," Kíli said and inclined his head regally. Ira seemed incapable of a reply and a thick blush crept up her neck and onto her cheeks. Khayl's jaw nearly hit the floor. _Ira _was sweet on _Kíli? _Kíli, the idiot, apparently had no idea for he had turned back to Khayl. Khayl really desperately wanted to slap him. Ira used Kíli's distraction to slip back inside.

"It's hot and I'm bored; I was wondering if you would like to go hunting? We could have lunch at a spot I know," he said with a grin, utterly oblivious that a girl who was so obviously _into him _had just run for it.

"You really don't know what to do with yourself without your brother around, do you?" Khayl smirked. "I bet you two are usually inseparable."

"Usually. But the way he treated you yesterday was wrong. I don't think her likes you ,"

"What gave you that impression?" Khayl asked stiffly drawing a laugh from the brunet. She changed the subject quickly. "Just let me get my bow and stuff and I'll be back. Do I need anything else?"

"Depends if you want to go swimming or not," Kíli said with a shrug. Khayl stifled a chuckle. Half the time it seemed like Kíli completely forgot she was female. She had a feeling that he wasn't at all used to the laws of propriety in regards to dwarrowdams and the opposite gender.

"I haven't been swimming for… well, _years," _Khayl admitted a little awkwardly. The last time she had been swimming was when she and Katie were dragged through the stupid portal and nearly drowned in that lake.

"All the more reason!" Kíli cried and almost shoved her through the door. "I'll saddle a pony."

Khayl nodded and moved upstairs. It was strange; Kíli seemed very familiar with Aro, Mila and their family, and now he didn't even have to _ask _to borrow a pony. She wondered if their families knew each other well and concluded that they must. Khayl stored the information away for further consultation and turned her mind back to climbing the stairs.

As fate would have it Ira was in their shared room and Khayl grinned broadly as she walked inside. Ira was standing at the window that faced out over the horse yard. Khayl snuck across the floor and peeped over her shoulder, stifling a laugh as she saw Kíli catching one of the ponies and tying it up.

"He's very attractive," she said after a moment and was rewarded by a squeal.

"Khayl! Don't do that! You nearly have me a heart attack!" she cried, clasping a hand to her chest. Khayl shrugged.

"You're not old enough for a heart attack," she grinned wickedly. "Your plenty old enough to have your eye on an attractive you dwarf, though."

"I don't know what you're talking about," was Ira's stiff response and she went to push past Khayl but the red-head was faster and pounced across the room and leant on the door. Ira glowered, knowing there was no way she could wrestle Khayl out of the way.

"Please let me out," Ira said flatly. "I have chores to do."

"Pfft, two minutes isn't going to kill you. Just tell me what you think about Kíli," Khayl refused to drop that almost maniacal grin she had. Ira sighed and rubbed her forehead with the heel of her palm.

"He's very attractive," she admitted after a moment. "And sweet."

"-And that's why you can't speak to him without impersonating a tomato and then running for the hills?"

"That about sums it up," Ira sighed, slumping on the edge of Khayl's bed, ignoring the fact that Khayl's bed still looked like she'd just rolled out of it in comparison to the younger dwarrowdam's neatly made bunks. "Every time I see him my mind just turns to mush and my legs go to liquid."

"That tends to be what happens when you're attracted to someone," Khayl told her softly, moving away from the door and sitting beside Ira. "You just have to make a point of speaking to him. Once you start a conversation it'll flow like a mountain stream; fast, slow, rough or smooth. You'll never know if you don't try though."

"I suppose you're right," Ira inclined her head slightly and leaned against Khayl's shoulder for a brief moment.

"Tell you what, I've got some raspberry cordial on the top shelf of the pantry –"

"Where only you can reach it without a ladder," Ira grumbled. Khayl smiled.

"That's the one. I'll grab it down for you, you take it and give it to Kíli. Tell him that you think he might like it or whatever. Just use it as an excuse to talk to him," Khayl nudged her gently with her elbow. "Just talk. It will be fine, I promise."

"Okay," Ira said, standing and squaring her shoulders. "Let's go get that cordial."

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

**A/N Well, that was a strange chapter. It didn't go at all where I wanted it too, so you may have to wait for a little longer for your Bofur scene people XD sorry about that. I was, however, struck with the random idea of Ira liking Kíli and now it's stuck. I'm still trying to work out how Kíli's going to handle it but I'm toying with a fun idea of Khayl learning a new skill; matchmaker. Hehe, I love messing with these guys too much.**

**Also, I would very much like to hear what you guys thought about Khayl's hair style! I **_**was **_**very proud of myself.**

**Father's Day tomorrow, plus my mum and I are selling horse gear at the markets so it seems unlikely I will get any writing done. Then it's back to school.**

**Anyway, I just want to say again that you guys were superb last chapter! We met and bypassed – by a large degree – the 50 review mark. That was awesome! I had a record number of views yesterday/today so that was wonderful! Your reviews drive me on to write better and help me analyse and re-address some of the points in my story, which I sorely need to do sometimes!**

**As ever, forgive any stupid mistakes. **

**P.S. It's so annoying that there's no word for male dwarves. Gah!**


	18. Chapter 18 Hunter and Huntress

Chapter 18: Hunter and Huntress

**A/N as ever thankyou to all those who have reviewed, favourited and followed my story. It means the world to me!**

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Khayl smirked as she threw her saddle over Prour's back and tightened the girth. Ira smiled a little as she hurried back the house, her hair come loose in her face in a failed attempt to conceal her crimson cheeks. Khayl snuck a glance at Kíli in an attempt to see if he was at all flustered but he looked much the same as usual with the slight curl to side of his mouth and a mischievous glow in his eyes. He wasn't even watching Ira as she walked away, Khayl noted with chagrin; his eyes were focused up Khayl instead. Resolving to try harder she swung up into the saddle and resigned herself to spend a goodly portion of her day trying to convince Kíli to actually _see _the beautiful dwarrowdam who just wanted a moment of his notice.

It was over half an hour later when Khayl finally decided to broach the subject, beyond tired of the persistent silence that seemed to be trying to smother them both. Their horses were walking side by side down a narrow path when she opened her mouth but it seemed that Kíli was just as eager for talk as she for he beat her to it.

"My brother and I would come hunting all the time," He said, casting a glance at her. "I haven't been since he broke his leg, what with all those orcs about and besides my mother would murder me if she found out I went by myself."

"Well then I shall let no harm come to fairest prince," Khayl replied with a laugh as Kíli turned and scowled at her. She sobered after a moment. "Your brother really doesn't like me."

"Aye," Kíli replied, seemingly in thought. "Mother says it's because he's jealous and bitter. I swear I've never seen him like that before. Usually he's more… well, like me."

"Jealous?" Khayl asked. "Of me? That can'tbe rigtht. Maybe he just became a sour old soul overnight and no one noticed."

"He's too stubborn to change overnight," Kíli responded with a barking laugh. "Mother says it's because he's locked up inside all the time and I'm not. He doesn't like that I've got a new friend and can have a good time without him. Usually we would spend all of our time together, and I've never really had any other friends before."

He sounded so forlorn at the end that Khayl couldn't resist a tease. "Perhaps it's your dazzling sense of humour that makes them feel so desperately outclassed by you, Loverboy."

"What about you then? Are you not threatened by my indomitable wisecracks?"

"_Indomitable?" _Khayl echoes with a scoff. "Your humour pales in comparison to my own, young apprentice."

"You wish," Kíli mutters in response. Khayl grins at him and they subside into another easy silence. Khayl remembers that she'd been meaning to ask Kíli but she doesn't get the opportunity as he pulls his pony to a gradual halt, Khayl stopping beside him with a questioning glance.

"If we stop here and leave the ponies, we can head down over that ridge." He points down to the rocky ridge that drops off on their left. "There's generally good game there because no one knows that getting back _up _the ridge is easier than getting down."

"How so?" Khayl asks.

"See that tree?" Kíli points. Khayl nods; it's a thick, gnarled thing that hangs out over the edge of the ridge. It's branches are straight and thick. "We rig up a rope system over one of the branches with on end tied up here and the other hanging to the ground down below. When we've finished our hunt we come back, tie the carcass to it and hoist it up, swinging it back into the edge using that long straight stick."

Khayl nods, seeing how it all fitted together. "And no one else does it because you have to climb down _and _up again."

"Precisely!" Kíli exclaimed, obviously pleased that someone was appreciating his uh, genius. "And it's pretty much inaccessible from other directions due to cliffs, thick woods and a white-water river."

"The perfect hunting place…" Khayl murmured. "And it's right in your backyard."

Kíli seemed a little confused for the moment, obviously having no idea of the concept of 'backyards,' but the meaning behind her words was evident and he nodded along eagerly.

"It's my brother's and mine's secret," He said with a roguish grin. "It's how we used to feed our family through hard times."

"I feel a little guilty for intruding," Khayl told him. She waited a moment. "Okay, it's gone, let's get to it!"

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

Khayl hadn't realised how high the ridge actually was until she was standing at its very edge. She gazed down at the bottom for a long moment before taking a single large, shaky step backwards.

"Kíli, that's not a ridge; that's a cliff." The dwarf in question shrugged and double checked his knots.

"It's not _that _high," he told her, looking at her with a crease in his brow. "Fíli dared me to jump off it once."

"And yet your brother's the one sitting at home with a broken leg," she glared at him, her heart swimming around in her gut.

"You're not afraid of… heights, are you?" the brunet asked almost incredulously.

"What's it to you?" Khayl snapped, converting her fear into anger as she tried to ignore the numbness in her legs.

"Nothing!" Kíli threw his hands up defensively. "I just see you as the type of person who has no major fears, or whatever. You just seem to take everything in stride that way."

"No fear?" Khayl stared at him with wide eyes. "I am scared of a great many things, Kíli. The only difference is that I am usually very skilled at hiding my fear. My quite irrational fear of heights, however, is one that I find myself unable to conceal."

"No fear is irrational," Kíli said soothingly.

"This one is," Khayl retorted. "I can climb any tree to its highest bows and not be in the least concerned. I have trouble standing anywhere near a wall or window on a second story, no matter how well I hide it."

"So that's why you're terrible with stairs?" Kíli surmised, trying not to laugh at his friend.

"Shut up and let's get this over with," Khayl snarled. Before he could say another word she had approached the cliff again and swung herself over the edge, her fingers white knuckled against the stone and her fierce grip. Kíli shook his head in disbelief. Most people would have ran away home, but apparently Khayl was braver –or stupider- than that.

That thought bringing a smile to his lips he followed her over the edge, noting her already a couple of metres below him. He shrugged his bow into a new position, the carry strap pressed into his shoulder. He could hear Khayl grumbling to herself as she climbed, cussing him, the cliff and just about anything else that came to mind. He tried to block his ears to some of the words that came from her mouth.

"I like the view," Khayl said after a few minutes, and Kíli glanced down to see her gazing up at him with a broad grin on her face. Comprehension flickered in his mind and the young male flushed beet red.

"Thank you," he managed to choke out. He heard Khayl's laughter drift up to him and a small smile touched his face as he worked his boot into a crevice.

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

"So…" Khayl began as the two dwarves crept through the undergrowth with their bows clutched in ready hands. "What do you think of Ira, huh?"

"Ira?" Kíli repeats, flicking his eyes over to meet her. "She's fine, I guess. I've known her as long as I can remember. She's a few years younger than me."

"And?" Khayl insisted, keeping her eyes to scanning their surroundings.

"And what?" Kíli asks. The red headed dwarrowdam looks at him with something like concern in her eyes.

"You truly are the most oblivious person I have ever met," she says, echoing her words from the day before.

"What have I done now?" Kíli grumbles.

"It's more what you _haven't _done," Khayl says before gesturing to some fresh tracks that cut across their path. Wordlessly they turned and followed the deer prints.

"And what would that be?" Kíli asked, concluding that talking to Khayl could often be like pulling teeth. Khayl sighs deeply and pauses a moment to scratch at her forehead.

"She likes you."

"And I like her. So what?" Kíli glances over to see Khayl staring at him with something like a mix of laughter and exasperation on her face.

"No, idiot, she really likes you," she tells him with a smile.

"Uh…"

"Like, she likes, _likes _you." Kíli looks at her in utter bewilderment.

"You mean, _she _is attracted to _me?" _

"That's what I'm trying to tell you, Loverboy." They stop as Kíli begins to shake his head under obvious duress.

"That's not funny Khayl," he exclaims. "No dwarrowdam like that would ever be _interested _in someone like _me." _

"Well, she is, and personally I can't see why not," Khayl tells him sternly. "This is about how the others have teased you, isn't it?"

He grumbles a noncommittal response.

"Thought so. You mustn't let them get to you like that. There's no way you're any less worthy than any of those other _Khuzdunh." _She snapped. "Perhaps more so than some."

"You think so?" Kíli asked a little meekly.

"I know so," Khayl responded fiercely. "And I'm not just saying that because I'm your friend; it's the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth. Besides, why do you think she brought that cordial out? So she could talk to _you, _idiot."

Kíli shot her a sideways glance. "You did you – never mind, you probably orchestrated the whole thing."

"It's my favourite bottle," she admitted with a sorrowful nod of her head. "But alas I was happy to donate it to a good cause. Also, it was a relief to get it out of the house; little Fargo's been eyeing it off all week."

Kíli laughed. "You couldn't have just shared?"

"Seriously?" Khayl threw him an incredulous look. "You have seen the size of that bottle right?"

"You got it for nothing," Kíli reminded her.

"Not true!" she exclaimed. "I had to get that old hag's cat out of a tree."

"Khayl!" Kíli said, scandalised, though he thought he might die from trying not to laugh. "You can't call Lady Vera an old hag; she's one of the wisest and most venerable members of our society."

"Wise and venerable are not words I would have used for that crazy bat." She muttered causing Kíli to shake his head in amusement.

"Come on, if we don't hurry up we'll waste away before we ever get to enjoy that cordial of yours," Kíli said, moving along the trail again.

As they went the trail gradually grew fresher and more obvious until they crouched on a small hillock downwind from the herd of deer. There were seven of them; two bucks, three does and two half-grown fawns.

"A buck?" Kíli asked and Khayl nodded wordlessly, scanning the area around them. She froze, and Kíli whipped his head around to see what had caused it.

A wolf, with a coat like soot mixed with snow padded soundlessly through the undergrowth, it's yellow eyes fixed on one of the fawns which had strayed a little far from its mother. Knowing the price a decent wolf fur could bring Khayl stood and drew back the bow, straining the old wood to the max.

She let the arrow fly and it whipped through the air, the whistling sound it made causing the wold to prick its ears a moment before it collapsed in a mass of limp limbs and fur. The deer herd panicked and bolted. Khayl turned back to Kíli with a smirk on her face just in time to see the second wolf leap out of the bushes behind him. It was a massive wolf and bore him to the ground with teeth bared for his neck.

Khayl leapt to action and swung out with her bow, smashing it across the snout. The beast reeled back and she grabbed the hunting knife that was strapped across her chest and whipped it out and up into its skull in a single motion. Kíli was covered in the blood that poured from the wound. Khayl released the knife as the beast flopped and Kíli rolled out from underneath before he got crushed. His eyes were wide and his mouth was tight. Someone like him never expected death to leap out at him with no warning.

"Mahal…" he breathed.

"Indeed," Khayl responded, wrenching her blade from the underside of the wolf's jaw. "You okay?"

"F –fine." Kíli said, still pale and not quite accepting of what just happened. "We –uh we need to take the carcasses back to the cliff. I'll get this one if – if you get the other."

"Easy Kíli," Khayl placed a hand on his arm and held him in place as he tried to rise. "I'll be back in a minute, just wait here."

She was indeed back in a few minutes, carrying the ungainly bundle that was the corpse of the first wolf. Her arrow was unscathed and back in her quiver.

"You good to go?" she asked Kíli who nodded and looked much better than he had previously. He scrambled to his feet and awkwardly hefted the second of the beasts.

"Preferably don't tell anyone I nearly got eaten," he said with a sheepish look as they walked.

"I won't; it wasn't your fault," Khayl gave a half shrug. "I'll just drag it out and take the piss out of you one day."

"You talk so strangely sometimes," Kíli said with a furrowed brow. "It's like you're from a whole other world or something sometimes."

Khayl froze. The breath in her lungs turned to chunks of ice and dropped. Her heart seized pounding her legs refused to move.

"Khayl?" Kíli too had stopped and was looking at her warily. The ginger dwarrowdam shook her head briskly like a dog, trying to clear away the terrified feelings in her gut.

"What gave me away?" she gave a kind of choked laugh, hoping to high heaven it sounded convincing. Evidently it did for Kíli seemed to just go with it.

"Oh you know just the green skin and enormous ears."

If she hadn't of been carrying the body of a wolf Khayl would have reached out and punched the impudent male.

"My ears _are not _huge," she said with a pout.

"Of course they're not," Kíli replied with no small amount of sarcasm.

"I hate you so much sometimes, Loverboy."

"Cow."

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**A/N Another of those abusively short chapters. Oh well, you should be used to it with this story by now. It's not like I have time to write anything more substantial.**

**I do hope you enjoyed it though! I would love it if you could tell me what you think! Every review I read gets me thinking of what else I can add and how I can form my story! **

**Thanks Knowing Grace, MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever, luvgirl101 and Dalonega Noquisi for your reviews. You are, all of you, legends. **

**Oh hey, I posted a 100 word drabble called MOONLIGHT. It's a slight Bagginshield so if that's your thing… go check it out :D **

**As ever please forgive any silly mistakes. Editing is not my strong point.**

**Please review.**


	19. Chapter 19 Lunch Break

Chapter 19: Lunch Break

**A/N Thank you so much for all the favs, follows and especially the reviews. They are all very sweet. I just want to say though I have not forgotten Katie, it's only that she doesn't come back into this story much later on. I might jam a snippet of her in somewhere though to satiate a few people XD Let me know if you would like that.**

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Getting the wolves back to the cliff? Easy. Khayl and Kíli made the trip in relative silence aside from Kíli's abstract comment about birds which had Khayl keeping a closer eye on her friend as they staggered through the forest. Once back at the cliff it was a simple matter to tightly tie the first limp body to the waiting rope. But then there was the matter of deciding who would be the one to climb up the cliff and pull the dead weight up.

"You're a dwarrowdam; it wouldn't be right if I let you do all the hard work!" Kíli exclaimed getting a huff in return.

"So nice of you to finally notice," Khayl snapped. "But since it's a pretty close thing as to which of us is stronger, it makes more sense for you to stay here since you're _way _better at tying knots than I am. If I tied it, it would probably come loose halfway up. Then where would we be?"

Kíli stood in silence for a moment, his male pride warring with his common sense. Part of Khayl actually wondered if Kíli was a little worried about staying down the bottom of the cliff in case another wolf came.

"Fine," Kíli acquiesced eventually. Khayl nodded once to him and started climbing before he could change his mind. It was a pretty easy climb, and for that Khayl was eternally grateful. There were plenty of handholds and deep crags where one could wedge their boots. The rock itself was solid, not at all crumbly or shale-like. It was a simple matter to scramble up the cliff face, handhold then foothold then repeat. She moved quickly, and the strain on her muscles was pleasurable. It was quite exhilarating to be up so high and clinging by nothing but your fingertips. Unless of course she recalled just how high up she was.

But sooner than she thought Khayl was back up the top. She rolled over onto flat ground and lay panting on her back for a long moment. The she stood and put her bow and quiver to one side. The dwarrowdam untied the other end of the rope walked around the back of a tree before she stood, holding it with her back to the cliff. She took several moments to roll her shoulders before she took the weight of the rope and pulled the carcass of the ground down below.

Despite the weight on the rope and the strain on her muscles it was all rather easier than she thought it would be. The wolf was at the top of the cliff within a few minutes and Khayl ran the rope around the trunk of the tree a few times before tying it off. Then she reached out with a long stick and hook the hanging end of the rope, drawing it and the wolf in towards her. Once she had a firm grip on the rope around the wolf she reached back and pulled her slip knot loose and hauled the roof in towards her. Once it was on the ground she untied the rope and kicked it back over the edge, keeping a firm hold on her end. The process was repeated with the second wolf.

Once she had them both Khayl slumped down next to a tree, grimacing at the sweat that covered her from head to toe. She shed her coat on the ground beside her and sat in nothing but her deep red tunic and breeches. She waited while Kíli made the climb and sometime later he rolled over the edge, smirking at her. She had a feeling he'd made the climb much faster than she had. He was still covered in the blood from the second wolf, though by now it had dried to his skin and clothes. Parts of his hair was matted with it. He looked as disgusting as Khayl felt.

"Well, that was easy," Kíli said with a grin, sitting up. Khayl shot him a dirty look, resolving to let him go first next time.

"Can we go have lunch now?" she half asked, half grumbled.

"Sure, but I would really like to get this blood off first," he replied, gesturing to himself. His dark hair hung in his eyes. "There's a stream just over there."

He point off beyond them and Khayl followed his finger but could see nothing for the thick trees that surrounded them. She shrugged.

"Sounds good," Kíli froze and stared at her with wide eyes. "What? You promised me a swim if I wanted. Well, I would love to."

"But – but I was joking!"

"Relax, Loverboy; I brought a spare change of clothes." Khayl paused and then wriggled her eyebrows. "Though if you didn't I'm not going to complain if you don't want these ones to get wet."

Kíli openly gaped at her and Khayl threw back her head and howled with laughter at his expression.

"Oh lighten up! I'm not some doe-eyed dwarrowmaiden," Khayl couldn't exactly tell him that where she came from was pretty shameless when it came to this stuff. Nor could she tell him that she'd skinny dipped plenty of times with members of the opposite gender. That got her wondering exactly how different dwarrow-males were uh… down _there. _"If Ira were here I'm sure she wouldn't complain either."

"Whatever," Kíli muttered looking fairly disturbed by this point. Khayl had an awful thought that perhaps she might be accidentally turning him off females altogether. But she banished that idea from her mind as she followed the brunet through the trees with one of the dead wolves. Kíli had the other and they dumped them back with Prour and the little pony. The pony balked smelling the blood but had been on enough hunting trips to settle quickly.

The two dwarves left the little clearing and Khayl followed Kíli towards the stream, able to hear the persistent gurgle of water now.

The stream was very secluded, amongst a thick copse of trees and with a ridge on one side creating a steep bank over two metres high. There was a small waterfall at one end. The water looked fairly deep, though it was shallow on their side.

"It's pretty," Khayl said, looking up at the opening in the trees that allowed sunlight to stream down over the water. "You should bring Ira here on a picnic. I'm sure she'd love it."

"I still don't believe you," Kíli grumbled. Khayl shot him a confused look. "About Ira. I don't believe that she's interested in _me."_

"Well, I've never lied to you before, so why would I start now? And also, if you're that concerned about, why don't you just ask her?"

"That would be… awkward."

"Love's awkward, idiot," Khayl replied, taking off her boot and lobbing it at him. He swatted it out of the way before it could collide with his face. "Answer me this then; do you like her?"

"I- I don't know. Maybe." Khayl sighed.

"Okay. Let's try this one; what _do _you like about her."

"Er- she's pretty, smart, kind. We used to get on well together."

"That's a start I suppose," Khayl mused, rubbing her beard with a knuckle. "Next; what _don't _you like about her?"

"What sort of question's that!?" Kíli exclaimed, but Khayl shot him a glare and waved for him to answer it. Kíli threw back his head and growled audibly at the sky. "I – I don't know. I can't think of anything."

Khayl raised an eyebrow. "You can't think of one thing you _don't _like about her?"

"Well… I suppose…" Kíli looked very uncomfortable, but Khayl thought he was doing way better than she would have been under this sort of interrogation. She would have decked the other person ages ago. "I suppose I don't like the way she does her hair…"

"Her hair…?" Khayl echoed a little dumbly. Kíli missed her point and nodded a little awkwardly.

"Yeah. She has it up in those tight braids? It makes her look older and more mature than she acts sometimes." Khayl knew what he meant, but that's _not _what she meant.

"Uh - no, I mean- her _hair _is the only thing you don't like about her?" Kíli shrugged. "And you still don't take any notice of this amazing, single, beautiful and intelligent dwarrowmaiden who just wants a brief moment of you attention?"

"I don't know! I suppose I don't see any dwarrowdam as eligible since none of them actually speak to me unless it's to ridicule me."

"You've completely missed the point of building a relationship."

"Look, can you just drop it Khayl? I'm still covered in blood in case you'd forgotten," he snapped. Khayl held her hands in a defensive gesture.

"Sorry," she muttered sarcastically. Secretly though she was still impressed with his self-restraint. She would have thrown her interrogator into the stream the moment they started poking around in her love life.

Without another word Kíli walked forward and flopped into the cool, calm waters of the stream, immediately going under and staying there for a long moment. His dark hair looked like floating ribbons under the water. He came back up after a moment, throwing his head and hair back and spraying water everywhere. Khayl shrieked as some of the cold droplets splashed her.

Kíli turned and grinned mischievously but made for her, intending to grab her and throw her in but Khayl was faster. She ran forward and dove to the side of him, her body slicing through the water like and arrow. She surfaced again on the other side of the stream and expelled a long stream of water from her mouth. Kíli was on her before she knew it, his clothes, skin and hair let out steady rivulets of crimson liquid that diffused into the water.

He pulled her under and held her there until she shoved him away and resurfaced. Khayl took a moment to splutter in indignation before she launched herself bodily at Kíli, an awkward wrestling/chase game ensuing. Perhaps it was a good thing they were well away from the sensitive ears of civilisation what with the amount of cussing, swearing and feminine squealing going on, though it was debatable as to who the squealing came from.

It was a fine way to waste time, have fun and do that most dreaded of chores – washing clothes. Both young dwarrow were refreshed and ravenous when they emerged dripping from the stream, their mingled laughter echoing through the otherwise still forest. They wandered back to their ponies and seized their packs before marching in complete opposite directions without another word, Kíli's ears tinged red.

Khayl stripped off her sopping garments quickly and dried off with the towel she had thought to bring. Then she slipped into a fresh set of underclothes, breeches and tunic. She left off her belt, boots and gauntlets until she was back at their impromptu camp, wriggling her bare toes in the soft, loamy dirt. Kíli hadn't come back.

After several minutes Khayl began to feel concern for her friend growing in her gut. He still hadn't come back, and there was no way he couldn't have been dressed in that length of time. But it seemed her fears were unfounded for the familiar sound of heavy footfalls – though lighter than most dwarves – came through the undergrowth. She turned with a smile on her face which slipped as she stared wide-eyed.

He looked like a whole other person. Kíli was still quite damp from the stream, his hair was soaked and hanging in thick, heavy strands. Perhaps the most … interesting thing was that he was clad in nothing but his pants and boots, his wet clothes hanging from one hand. He caught sight of Khayl staring at him and flushed deep crimson.

"I –uh I forgot my shirt… and my towel…"

"I see that," Khayl replied with a slight smile. "I lied before when I said I didn't mind if you went shirtless."

"Um…"

"In fact I do mind a lot. I would rather you not put one back on. Period."

"Uh…"

"You do provide interesting scenery," Khayl said with a decisive nod, deciding that she rather liked this shirtless Kíli. Whilst swimming he had left all his clothes on, trying to get the blood out of them. Now, with all them soaking wet… well he _did _cut a fine figure. Who knew this was what was hidden under all those bulky dwarvish clothes? "I don't think any of those dwarrowdams would ever tease you again if you romped around half-naked for a while."

Kíli was flushing brighter red than ever before – though who knew that was possible? – and still stood awkwardly holding his soaked clothes. Khayl realised she had been rambling and making him even more uncomfortable. Flushing a little herself she busied herself with gathering the pack that had their foodstuffs and an old blanket.

"We can go back to the river so we're away from these smelly beasts if you like," she said, waving a hand behind her in an attempt not to look at Kíli again. Kíli wasn't sure if she was gesturing to the horse and pony or to the dead wolves but he followed her regardless. Khayl threw down the blanket in a sunny patch and tossed her clothes of a low hanging branch, all the while wondering obscure thoughts. For some reason the most prevalent thought in her mind was _if thin, whippy Kíli looks like that under there, what does his better looking, better built brother look like? _Because while the dwarrowdam couldn't deny that she hated Fíli's attitude towards her, she had heard positive things about him from Kíli and he was still undeniably the best-looking male she had ever seen. Pity he was such a dick.

Dwelling on those thoughts helped turn Khayl's mind and attention away from the younger brother's lithe and muscular body. Kíli still looked totally out of his element as he balanced awkwardly first on one foot and then the other, not meeting Khayl's eye.

"This is going to be a long lunch if you don't even look at me," Khayl half said, half grumbled, but Kíli shot her a meek smile nonetheless. "I mean, you're acting like you've never been shirtless in front of a female before."

At Kíli's beet red face Khayl quickly backtracked, remembering that society, and most particularly dwarven society, worked in a completely different way in this world.

"Er- what I meant was you're acting like I've never seen a shirtless male before," Khayl resisted the urge to smack herself square in the face. This was not going well. "Okay, here's the deal. I've seen males shirtless before. You've now officially been seen shirtless by a dwarrowdam. All is well and there is no need for an uncomfortable situation, okay?"

Kíli nodded mutely.

"Good. Then all awkwardness gets set to one side as of right … now."

Then just because she could and because there was no way she could make it any worse, Khayl walked up to Kíli and wrapped her arms around his stiff figure. He was incredibly warm to touch and his hair smelt like pine. After a short moment Kíli's arms came up and wrapped around her back. Then they pulled away from the embrace in unison and Khayl slapped him on the shoulder.

"See? All better,"

"You're a genius, Khayl," Kíli told her, shaking his head in disbelief. Almost like magic the tension between the two was broken.

"I do try. Now, let's get munching; I think I'm about to waste away over here. Oh and where's that cordial? Also, don't get used to my hugs. They're for special occasions only."

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

**A/N because the world needs more shirtless Kíli. And Fíli, but that's looking a little distant at the moment. I hope you liked it, and no, Khayl isn't suddenly attracted Kíli; she's just enjoying the scenery. Writing an awkward Kíli is so much fun. I hope you liked it.**

**Also, if you would like to see a snippet of Katie somewhere soon, let me know and I'll see where I can wedge it in. I've had a few people ask me about her now.**

**My drabble MOONLIGHT has evolved into a series of drabbles called DRABBLES. Original I know. But hey, there's something of everything there.**

**PLEASE review. You have no idea how much of my story planning is actually drawn from peoples comments. This is probably why you send me two sentences and get three or four paragraphs back… sorry about that.**

**Special thanks to Dalonega Noquisi, luvgirl101, thebananakeeper, Alu Riversong and MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever for your reviews. They're all read and adored. I squee every time my email buzzes nowadays.**


	20. Chapter 20 Society Urgh

Chapter 20: Society… Urgh

**A/N Hey hey hey! Chapter 20! (And we haven't even left Ered Luin yet!)**

**Thank you also to all my new favouriters and followers, as well as all those who have reviewed! You have my undying gratitude. **

**The question's still out there though; would you like to see a snippet of Katie sometime soon? I mean, she kind of wandered off like 16 chapters ago and hasn't been seen since… let me know!**

**~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~**

Khayl rode behind Kíli on the path, trying her utmost not to take any deep breaths. Every time she did she would get the rather unpleasant odour of dead wolf. Mahal, it even _tasted _bad as she inhaled. Now, she didn't think that wolves smelt very good at any point in time, but wolves that had been bleeding out and sitting around in the sun for a goodly portion of the day? It wasn't pleasant, to say the least.

That was why they were heading straight towards the market district. Kíli supposedly knew someone there who would skin the beasts and cure the hides. That person apparently had a sister who would turn said hides into extremely warm clothing. Like say a massive fur lined coat. Kíli had forced Khayl to accept one of the wolf furs, the one belonging to the beast that tried to eat Kíli, as a reminder that she had in fact saved his life and therefore a reminder that he owed her an immense debt. Khayl had accepted but her only reasoning was that she desperately needed a new coat.

The market was not a place that Khayl was familiar with. Aro and his family lived a fair distance out of town and Khayl had made a point of avoiding the place thus far. She didn't handle being in crowds with strangers well. Something about close proximity with people she didn't know just drove her mental. Which is why when Mila or Ira desired to visit the market Khayl would formulate a rapid escape plan and disappear without another word.

The part of her with that thin shred of common sense reminded the young dwarrowdam that she would eventually have to somewhat integrate herself in the society there, but she was obstinately putting it off for as long as possible. The lingering feeling of being weighed down under all those stares back in the healing halls still lurked in her mind every time she even considered the populated places.

Going there with Kíli though somehow, irrationally, seemed easier. It was like when they had sparred and the crowd had swelled around them. Khayl had paid it no heed because she had been with him, and doing something she _knew _she was good at. Somehow that made it easier to bear.

"Just here will do," Kíli said, dismounting his pony and tying it to a nearby post. Khayl followed suit, looking all about. They were in a quieter part of the market, where there were actual shops and industry rather than just colourful stalls. Dwarves still bustled to and fro carrying various burdens and hurrying through their errands but there weren't the vast crowds she had spotted the few times she had passed by the centre of the market.

"I'll see to the wolves if you take the pheasants?" Kíli said. Khayl nodded a little reluctantly and unhooked the string of birds from Kíli's saddle. They had shot them down on the journey back. "The stall's in the middle of the market just outside the butcher's. You can't miss it; there's dead birds hanging up all over the place."

"Don't suppose I could wait for you to finish and then you show me where to go?" Khayl muttered to his back as the brunet disappeared into the darkened interior of the shop. "This is not going to end well…"

But Khayl was nothing if not stubborn and determined to at least _try. _So she lifted her head and strode into the middle of the crowd, instantly being lost and bewildered by the swirling rush of dwarrow all about her. She could see over many heads, but there were humans there two, gesticulating wildly and weaving throughout the stout-folk in a way that made even Khayl feel impossibly small. So she looked for anything that resembled a butcher's shop, allowing the crowd to push and pull her until she was drawn to the outskirts of the hubbub.

Not usually a meek person in any way shape or form, Khayl moved away every time one of the strangers stepped into her space, though regretting it as she rapidly became utterly and undeniably lost. She couldn't even spot the place she had originally come from. Two dwarrow-children roared out of nowhere and knocked into her legs, causing the fiery headed female to leap back out of shock.

Unfortunately her back collided with something wooden, a table or a bench, and she heard the rattling clunk of several objects falling over. Khayl spun, shock on her face and apologies on her lips.

"I am so sorry!" she gasped bending over immediately to pick up the only object that had been unfortunate enough to land on the cobblestones. She had stood halfway when she realised what it was she held in her hands. Then Khayl stood fully and a slow smile slipped onto her face.

"This is amazing…" she breathed. It was a wooden figurine of a horse, perhaps a foot tall and with fully moveable limbs and neck. It was made of a dark cherry coloured wood that had been polished until it shone. The main and tale were made of the softest hair. Even the tiniest features of the beast had been carved and even its ears swivelled. The eyes had a glossy glow to them.

"Thankee lass," an accented male voice came. Khayl glanced up quickly, knocked from her reverie and blushed as a dwarf grinned crookedly at her. He had outrageous dimples and an enormous floppy hat that jigged about as he moved. Khayl looked down at the horse again, with a scratch now running over its rump and dirt in its mane and tail.

"I'm so sorry for knocking your stall mister!" she said, clutching the toy. None of the others seemed to be at all damaged and for that she was grateful.

"Twas not your fault," The dwarf replied, still smiling broadly at her. "I saw what happened and there was no harm done."

"But the horse!" Khayl cried, thrusting forward the unfortunate figurine. "It's scratched and ruined!"

"Not ruined little lady," he told her, not taking the toy back. "Most children don't care about such meaningless things. Unlike adults."

"You are right, I suppose," Khayl admitted, feeling really dreadful. She just wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole. She pondered for a moment. "Well… let me buy it off you."

The toymaker immediately objected vehemently. "No! No, no! That's not necessary! I won't allow it."

"That's not what I meant," Khayl's fingers reflexively closed over the toy again at his mention of her not keeping it. "I meant that I would buy it, but not for your sake or my guilty conscience. I have a little friend who would very much adore it, I think."

"Oh," Even the stranger's floppy hat seemed to deflate as he relaxed. "Oh, well in that case…"

"How much?" Khayl asked, absently running her fingers through the snarled mane.

"Fifteen," he replied after a moment and Khayl raised an eyebrow.

"How much before I dropped it on the ground and scratched it?"

"Twenty five." Khayl pulled her coin purse from her belt and counted out the appropriate amount, on the table with a small, grateful smile.

"Thank you Mister…?"

"Bofur at your service," Bofur said, tipping his hat slightly. Khayl grinned.

"Khayl, at yours."

"I hope your little friend likes her toy, Miss Khayl," Bofur commented causing Khayl to laugh.

"I have no doubt that she will be dragging me back here soon," Khayl confessed, running a hand over the mar in the otherwise perfect finish of the toy. "Say, I don't suppose you know where the butchers shop is?"

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

With Bofur's instruction in her mind, a wooden horse under her arm and a string of pheasants thrown over her shoulder, Khayl marched through the market, determined that she would get where she needed to go. Perhaps it was her height, her stature or the resolute expression on her face, but she didn't seem to be getting jostled quite so much by members of the both races. Perhaps she _could_ get a handle on this whole 'belonging to society' thing.

Bofur's instructions were easy enough to follow, unlike Kíli's rather unhelpful ones, and Khayl had soon made her way to what was very obviously a butchers shop. She turned and scanned the nearby locality before smiling in relief. The stall she sought was only several feet away and blatantly obvious now that she had spotted it at long last.

"Good afternoon," Khayl said approaching the dwarf who stood behind the stall. True to his word, Kíli had been correct when he said there would be dead birds _everywhere. _The vendor even had a plume of feathers stuck in his beard.

"Aye, 'tis," The dwarf said, nodding a little absently. He gazed off over her shoulder as he spoke, never looking at her.

"I have five fine pheasants here. Killed just an hour ago," The dwarf tilted his head to the side and his eyes drifted to one of the pheasants hanging over her shoulder.

"Very nice. Arrows?"

"Uh, yes?"

"Three coins each," the vendor told her, pulling a pre-counted bag of coins from inside his coat. The clothing he was wearing was far too hot for a day such as that. But Khayl made no comment and simply took the proffered coin and laying the pheasants down on his table.

"Thank you," she said before turning and walking away. Once she was a few metres away Khayl glanced back over her shoulder at him, seeing him softly stroking the feathers of one of the birds whilst staring directly up at the sky.

"Strange fellow," Khayl murmured to herself the instant before she slammed bodily into a person. Khayl, acrobatic person that she was, fell backwards and winded herself as she landed upon the ground. A moment later the air was again driven from her lungs as her collision comrade fell atop of her. All Khayl saw was a flashy of mousy hair and a knitted… cardigan?

Muttering gruff dwarfish curses that were in stark contrast to the other dwarf's flighty apologies, Khayl rolled out from under the other person as they shifted off her. She surged to her feet and stuck out a hand to the other dwarf who seemed to be squirming on the ground. He looked up at her with wide, frightened and slowly awestruck eyes. The dwarf took Khayl's hand and allowed her to pull him to his feet. By the time he got there he was blushing furious and refused to meet her eyes.

Khayl looked the stranger up and down with eyebrows that seemed determined to creep upwards. He was young looking, frail and nervy. This stranger looked as though a strong wind might blow him over. Then Khayl noted the various thick tomes that she had knocked from the dwarf's hands when she crashed into him and she automatically stooped to pick them up. After a short moment the other dwarf did the same, still refusing to look at her or even come within arm's reach.

"Here," Khayl said with a slight smile, dusting off one of the books and handing it back to him. The dwarf in the knitted cardigan blushed even deeper – if that was at all possible – and eyed the ground keenly, scratching a toe against the ground. "I'm really sorry for knocking into you; I should have been paying more attention. I'm Khayl by the way."

"Ori," the young dwarf replied shyly with a half-smile, still not looking up. Khayl thought him quite adorable in the way one would a baby animal, like a duck or a piglet before they grew into a large, smelly adult version.

"Khayl!" A voice called and the dwarrowdam turned in its direction, momentarily forgetting the young dwarf behind her.

"Mila!" Khayl called back with a grin. "And Lady Dís. It's a pleasure as always."

"You are ever too kind, Khayl," Dís responded with that serene smile of hers.

"What are you doing here Khayl?" Mila asked with a curious tilt of her head.

"Kíli and I went hunting. There was a catch to sell."

"What did you get?" Another voice chimed into the conversation sourly and Khayl looked to her right, seeing Fíli hopping towards her on his crutches, Ira at his side. Khayl felt her face immediately sink into a slight scowl at the sight and sound of the blonde dwarf and focused her eyes on a point just over his shoulder rather than actually looking at him

"Five pheasants," Khayl replied, gritting her teeth as she heard a scoff from the cripple. She gave him a slightly mocking grin. "And two wolves."

"Wolves?" Dís echoed with wide eyes. She glanced around as though her other son was magically going to appear out of the crowd. "Are you both unharmed?"

"Yes my Lady. Just a shock is all," Khayl told her honestly. "We killed the first but the second gave us a bit of a scare."

Without intending to Khayl's words seemed to increase the anxiety in Dís heart at the very thought of her youngest in danger. Khayl cursed herself for her remarkable lack of tact.

"He's fine, I swear it. He's speaking to someone about curing the hides at this very moment." Khayl stuck her hands out in front in a placating manner, not wholly sure how to go about dealing with a panicky mother. Dís chewed her bottom lip and there was an awfully awkward moment. Khayl very nearly let a hugely audible sigh of relief when Mila placed a hand on Dís' shoulder.

"Come Dis, your soon is capable and Khayl is honest; there is nothing for you to fret over," she hesitated for a moment, mulling over her words. "The only thing to worry about here is Khayl's tact-deficiency."

The others all laughed and Khayl rolled her eyes, having the decency to look at least a little sheepish.

"But now we have shopping to attend to. Khayl, would you be a dear and stay with Fíli so that Ira might join us?" Mila asked with a hopeful expression on her face. Khayl wondered if she had been informed about the rivalry that seemed to have sprung out of nowhere between the two young dwarrow and was attempting to mend a few non-existent bridges.

"'S no problem," Khayl replied stiffly. "I'm sure Kíli will seek us out when he's ready."

"I'm sure he will," Mila shot her a friendly, mischievous smile that Khayl didn't quite understand. Fíli had thus far managed to stay blissfully silent and therefore Khayl had managed to remain remarkably civil. A feat in and out of itself.

The other dwarrowdams smiled and left the two, retreating into a shop that was situated not far from where they were standing. The sign out the front marked it as a dressmaker's and Khayl shuddered automatically. Ira had tried to convince her to wear a dress more than once, but Khayl had been obstinate, flatly refusing to even think about wearing on unless there was a formal occasion. Which thankfully there hadn't been.

"So…" Fíli began after a long and horrendously awkward silence. "What really happened with that wolf?"

"What do you mean?" Khayl responded, not really wanting to talk about it and knowing that she had promised Kíli she wouldn't breathe a word. But then this was his brother…

"It did more than just 'give you a scare' didn't it?" Fíli shot her a sideways look and it was clear that he was awfully astute at reading people.

"Yes," Khayl admitted reluctantly.

"Kíli _is _alright though?" Fíli asked and Khayl thought his concern for his little brother quite admirable. She knew the tone of voice that he was using as he spoke the other's name; her brother had often spoken about her to others in that tone. It was a mingled sound of masked pride and evident exasperation.

"I assure you, Kíli is perfectly fine," Khayl allowed herself a moment to grumble about how everyone suddenly seemed to believe she was being untruthful. "I think the only thing that's wounded is his pride."

"In that case, he'll bounce back soon."

Khayl nodded absently, silently marvelling that they had managed to endure an entire conversation without throwing an insult or glare at one another. There was still time though, and as of yet neither of them had even looked at the other. Khayl wondered if that was going to become a constant trend between them. Whatever the tension that lay between the two, it seemed to alleviate when they weren't actually looking at one another. Peculiar.

"So, you were telling me what happened…" Khayl sighed, knowing that he would persist until she spoke up.

"Kíli asked me never to mention it again."

"He never has to know that I know," Fíli said without hesitation. Khayl looked at him with a raised eyebrow before she realised her mistake. As soon as she got even a glance at his face she just wanted to… do something. Brutalise someone maybe. She cut her eyes away again and the tension drifted off slowly. She wondered if the exact same was happening to him as he seemed to be focusing on a point just beyond her left arm. Khayl fixed her eyes on a bustle of dwarrow she could see just over his shoulder, not really focusing on them.

"Is it even possible for you to keep something from one another?" she asked with a slight smirk.

"Well…" Fíli looked a little caught, she noticed out of the corner of her eye. "No, not really. I would still like to know though."

"Why is it so important?" Khayl wondered aloud to the sky.

"Because he's my little brother," Fíli glowered, but she sensed it wasn't directed at her. "I should have been there to protect him. But I wasn't; you were."

"You're injured. It's not your fault,"

"It's my fault I got hurt in the first place," Fíli cut his eyes away and stared over the market without really seeing any of it.

"Is that why you've been taking it out on me?" Khayl sighed.

"Not entirely," Fíli admitted and Khayl looked at him in shock at the same moment he glanced at her. They managed to avoid one another's eyes as always but the storm of tension the built in her chest was enough to make the dwarrowdam want to scream and destroy things. Honestly, she just felt like seeking out a hardy stone and smashing her head into it. Perhaps that would alleviate _something. _Her stupidity would be a nice thing to lose, even if just temporarily. Mahal, she couldn't even _look _at the blonde without wanting to become a homicidal maniac.

Khayl shifted her eyes so that she was resolutely staring at the shop door that the other dwarrowdams had disappeared into, wishing someone would show up, _anyone _really. Even if they forced her to go clothes shopping. Fíli she noted amusedly had tilted his head back and was watching the clouds drift overhead as though they held all the secrets in the world. It seemed her _did _bear the same tension that welled within her. That must be why he was always so hostile…

"Brother! Khayl!" A jovial voice called and they both snapped their heads about to look at Kíli who approached with a broad smile on his face. "Mahal! You're both within a ten metre radius and neither of you has killed the other,"

"Shut up," Fíli grumbled and Khayl smirked. Kíli had no idea how much she wanted to just weep and embrace him at that moment. He had impeccable timing.

"All done?" Khayl asked, wanting conversation of any description.

"Yep," Kíli rubbed his hands together eagerly. "I'll come back and get them when they're done, but I'm not telling you when that will be."

"Be that way," Khayl muttered before she heard the swinging of the door in the dressmaker's shop and saw Kíli's face pale. Khayl grinned.

Dís was on her way.

"Wolves, Kíli!?"

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

**A/N I hate this chapter. That's all I'm saying about it. I hope you like it, because it has taken me forever. Therefore I am sincerely sorry for the long wait. But I have holidays soon, so that should be nice. **

**Please review. My eagerness with this story was severely knocked by this chapter and several happenings. I really need to know what you thought, because I thought it was dreadful. Painful at the very least.**

**But for those who wanted Bofur and those who wished for Ori, here they are! Yay! And Khayl's got a toy horse to how for her clumsiness haha. **

**Thanks bloodyrose1294, PurpleFairy11, MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever, luvgirl101 and thebananakeeper for your reviews. They're much appreciated.**

**As ever please forgive any stupid mistakes. I got really fed up with this chapter so not really any editing here… I think the chapter title sums up my opinion of it all. **


	21. Chapter 21 Touch and Faith

Chapter 21: Touch and Faith

**Fair warning, this chapter is not edited. At all. Ye be warned. **

**~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~**

Khayl lay abed that night, listening to the quiet sniffles of Irisa.

She knew that she should comfort the little dwarfling, but wasn't altogether sure of how to go about it. Always she and Katie had been the youngest in their family, never having any experience with little ones. Save for her brother's daughter, but she was a newborn last Khayl had seen her. Little Sara… she would be older now, walking, talking and acting older than she actually was.

Khayl's heart burned for a long moment. It was often that she found herself slipping into reverie of her old life in the deep throes of the night nowadays. Before it had been easier; each day she would wake and tell herself that she was merely a step closer to the time when Gandalf and Katie would reappear and they would whisk her back into her own world. But now… now things were harder. Khayl felt more and more certain with each passing sunrise that the meddling old wizard was never going to help her. He had never shown an interest in her circumstances anyway. The only thing he had seemed concerned about was Katie's affinity for magic. Stupid, self-centred wizard.

Irisa sniffled again, though this time it was very nearly a sob. She tried valiantly to mask the sound in her blankets but it was a hopeless attempt in such a small space. Khayl looked up at the ceiling and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. When she opened them again everything was exactly the same. Ira was still gone and Khayl was the only one there to comfort her little sister.

"Irisa?" Khayl called softly across the room. The sniffling stopped abruptly as the little girl tried her hardest play dead. "Night terrors little one?"

Khayl cursed herself silently. Obviously the child was suffering from nightmares! But who liked to have that fact pointed out by someone else? Fortunately though, Irisa was not Khayl and so she formulated no snarky reply that would have got a hard object thrown at her head.

"Yes," the dwarfling replied after a moment, her voice choked and slick with tears.

Khayl glared furiously at the ceiling as she tried to recall what her parents had done when she needed comforting at night when she was a child. It was hard. The memory loss was prevalent, but so too was the issue of her having been a child at the time and the fact that she was sure she would never have gone to her parents like that very often if at all.

A faint memory of padding through the house, staying low in the shadows and creeping around her father's sleeping form to her mother's side came to mind. But what then? There was a sense of security, warmth and life on either side of her… she had clambered in between her parents on their massive bed and slept in a miniscule ball, none of them touching each other. It hadn't been overly comforting to a tiny child, but that was the way their family was.

But dwarves were not like that. They drew comfort from closeness with others, a closeness that Khayl had managed to avoid for the most part, never having been raised that way. She knew for certain that hugs were of the rarest occasion in her household as a youth. But Khayl also knew that she would have to adopt that mannerism sooner or later or she would be removed from society forever. Sighing, she figured she may as well begin with a miniscule dwarfling who was like a little sister.

"Irisa, c'mon," she swept the blankets out a bit and held one arm out stiffly from her side in what she hoped was an inviting gesture. There was a long moment and she feared that she had failed spectacularly, but then there was a thick rustle of blankets and the soft touch of feet on the floor.

Moments later a weight pressed on the side of her bed. Khayl jumped slightly, having remained staring at the ceiling and surprisingly not heard Irisa's approach. The weight remained on the side of the bed and the little one came no closer, never having really been around Khayl in this manner. The best the older dwarrowdam really ever afforded her was a quick pat on the shoulders if she quickly wrapped herself about her waist.

"What are you waiting for?" Khayl grumbled, voice roughened with sleep. "The night breeze bites, little one."

There was a stifled giggle and then Irisa clambered into the bed, sinking beneath the covers. Her feet touched Khayl just above the knee and the dwarrowdam nearly leapt through the roof at the touch of icy skin upon her own warmth.

"Mahal you are cold," she growled, fighting the urge to move away. Irisa giggled again and reached out with a foot, placing it against Khayl's leg. Khayl jolted and bit back another curse, glaring at the dwarfling through the faint light. Irisa's expression was remarkably smug though still tear stained from what she could see in the dark. If she had still been human, she doubted she would have been able to see anything, but the dwarves had excellent night vision, though they were strangely short-sighted as a race. Khayl assumed it was because growing up underground you never had any chance to look long distance. Fortunately she did not suffer from that affliction, and she had noticed that younger dwarves such as Kíli, who had been born in exile, tended not to either.

Khayl stiffened again as Irisa moved closer and curled up between her arm and her torso, her head sitting on the junction between her shoulder and chest. The red head resisted the urge to squirm at the unfamiliar sensation of a body just casually touching her like that. But after a moment, as heat began to seep through them both and Irisa's breathing became fainted and steadier she relaxed into it, finding strange comfort in the closeness of another. It almost made her feel like she was a part of something better than herself…

Khayl closed her eyes and her mind immediately wandered to her family, to Katie in particular. Vaguely she wondered if her life would have been much different if her family was closer, like this. Katie's family was, mostly, and it must have been so strange for her to see her cousins, aunts and uncles all so distant with one another. Khayl wondered if Katie had ever longed to hug her for no reason, or throw her arms about her just _because, _but had fought down the urges because Khayl was evidently not used to touching…

It seemed such a strange thing for Khayl to be thinking about, but Khayl was infinitely interested in whether or not Katie had missed such contact when around her more distant family. Khayl could see why; to be so close to someone, with nothing between you but touch… it was like bearing your heart to someone. You had to trust them, and they you. Perhaps that was why the dwarves were so fond of touch... to touch and accept touch would be to show faith in the other. Maybe that was why Kíli had seemed so relaxed after Khayl had hugged him, despite the circumstances…

Next time Khayl saw her cousin she swore to herself that a massive hug was well overdue.

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

"You're still not doing it right," Limrel told her almost exasperatedly. The she-elf had one elbow braced in her hand whilst her other hand rubbed at her pointed chin in a manner intended to make her look wiser than she actually was. All it did was make her look like she needed some _stop-itch. _

"Pray tell," Katie growled through gritted teeth, her arms, fingers and shoulders burning from the strain of holding the bow. Her body ached furiously all over. Even her jaw hurt, but that was more from the mental strain of dealing with her instructor rather than anything physical.

"You hold the bow too angled," the elf said, tilting her blonde head. Katie resisted the urge to smack the confounded being over the head with the bow.

"I learned to shoot for _horse archery. _You can't shoot like a field archer on horseback; your arrow would just blow back and dislodge, stabbing yourself or your horse," Katie snapped for the hundredth time.

"Do we look like we're doing archery on horses here?" Limrel asked with that all too smug smile of hers.

"No," Katie grumbled. "But it was the way I was trained, and I assure you, the person I learned from is better than you will ever be."

"I doubt it," The elf said with a snort. "If your shooting is any indication your teacher couldn't have _really _known what they were doing."

Hating the way this smart-alec elf was badmouthing Khayl, Katie eyed the target and snarled as she drew the bow back fully and released, fuelling the arrow with all her anger and emotion. The arrow zipped away and landed in the centre, despite the distance. Katie looked up and grinned, happy that she had finally got it.

Limrel said nothing and Katie resisted the urge to poke her tongue out at the elf. _Khayl _had taught her that. Using negative emotions served to narrow one's vision and field of perception, allowing for full concentration on the target. It was something to be used in balance with a calm mind. A strong, fiery heart and a strong, obedient mind was what Khayl had told her. Katie just had to work on the obedient mind part.

"I think we're done for today," Limrel told her through gritted teeth after a moment. Katie smiled winningly at her, even as the arrogant elf turned and strode away, her back rigid.

"Miss Katie," a soft voice called and Katie turned to meet it. Lindir stood halfway down a flight of stairs looking immaculate with his dark hair and violet robes as always. Sometimes Katie hated being around these elves, even if she was half herself; they were all much too perfect. Perfect in a painful way. Katie had a feeling that no matter her heritage she would always be below par when it came to dealing with her pointy-eared kin.

"Yes Lindir?" she called back, with her brow slightly furrowed. It was rare for her to be summoned for any reason these days.

"There's someone here to see you," Lindir responded, but said no more. Instead Lord Elrond's second turned and floated back up the stairs, expecting her to follow, which she did, with no short amount of grumbling below her breath, though she knew it likely he could still hear her.

"Who?" she asked as she jogged to keep up with Lindir's long, fluid strides. The elf merely glanced sideways at her with a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. When no answer was forthcoming Katie huffed a sigh and looked out over Rivendell in the late afternoon light. It was so beautiful, breathtakingly so. Sometimes Katie found it hard to believe she was there at all. It was like it was all just a beautiful dream and she drifted through the days in a rather pleasant haze.

They came out onto a courtyard after descending a short flight of stairs and Katie looked about, not quite seeing him at first for his clothing made him blend in with the grey of the cliff side behind him.

"Katie, my dear girl," his soft, deep voice came and Katie smiled brightly.

"Gandalf!" she cried, embarrassingly loud. "Oh Gandalf, you're back!"

"Indeed, I am," he said with a chuckled. Lord Elrond, following his second and Katie down the stairs smiled at the reunion.

"Mithrandir," he said, inclining a slight bow. The two grinned at one another before Elrond moved to embrace the wizard who returned it with a hearty slap on the back. "Come, dinner awaits us!"

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Dinner did indeed await them on a small balcony removed from the other happenings of the Valley of Imladris. Katie had sprinted away for a moment and changed into appropriate dinner-wear whilst Gandalf had been provided with the opportunity to freshen up after his journeys.

"So," Gandalf began as the three of them chomped away at the luxurious feast Lord Elrond's people had laid out for them. "Rivendell seems peaceful,"

Katie snorted quietly at the small talk. "Rivendell is always peaceful, Gandalf,"

The wizard exchanged quick look with elf lord, concerned by the naivety of youth.

"Indeed, Katie," he said after a moment of mulling on his words. The trio subsided into silence once again, Katie catching the silent rebuke in the wizard's expression. Unsurprisingly it was Lord Elrond who reopened conversation as he attempted to keep his as … homely as possible for the two of them.

"I heard there was some trouble in the north west," Elrond prompted after a moment. "Near Ered Luin. It was something about orcs."

"Yes, orcs indeed," Gandalf replied with a heavy sigh and hooded eyes. "Attacking human and dwarf settlements."

"Surely not!" Katie exclaimed, aghast at the very thought.

"I assure you, Katie, it is so. I saw them myself," Gandalf told her gently. "A great host of them."

"They were stopped?" Elrond surmised, though it was more of a question.

"Of course," Gandalf allowed himself a smile. "The dwarves of Ered Luin crushed them before they had a chance to attack any more than a handful of villages and settlements. Only one large town was attacked. All of the dwarf settlements were untouched saved for the losses in battle."

"That is grim news regardless," Elrond said, watching as Katie absently prodded a lettuce leaf with her fork.

"Yes, but there is one silver lining to this rather dreary cloud," The wizard replied with a knowing smirk.

"I fail to see how that can be," Katie murmured, at a loss for her appetite.

"Well, I have been told that a young dwarf fled from the town after a furious battle, marching cross country over a great distance in a short time to reach Ered Luin. They battled more orcs, and this dwarf held of a great group of wargs and orcs so the other could flee and alert the warriors of the Blue Mountains."

"That was very selfless of them," Khayl said into her salad, missing the bright twinkle in Gandalf's eye.

"Yes, Khayl fought remarkably, I am told. It is thanks to her and Argo that the rest of the settlements and villages in that region remained unscathed."

"Khayl?" Katie breathed, looking up at the smirking wizard with a slack jaw and the fork half-held between her numb fingers. "You've finally found her!?"

"Yes, she and Argo are remaining among the dwarves in the Blue Mountains for now. She seems to be doing well there," Gandalf told her, chuckling at the brightening of Katie's whole attitude as she at last heard some news of her absent cousin.

"That's good!" she grinned broadly. "Will you take me to see her? Please Gandalf!"

The wizard and the elf lord exchanged wary glances, both of them knowing that Katie was far from prepared to be allowed to walk back out in the world beyond. Her powers were too unstable and she didn't yet possess the fortitude to control them. After nineteen years of them lying dormant within her, she had been given no opportunity to develop alongside her powers, rather than always trying to catch up to them, as she was doing now under Lord Elrond's tuition.

"I'm sorry Katie, but I cannot allow that," Lord Elrond said after a moment, eyeing the girl with sympathy as he caught her winded look. Katie nodded stiffly, knowing she should have expected this even as she fought down frustrated tears. It had been so long since she had seen Khayl… she was her only link to home. Katie wondered if her cousin-turned-dwarf missed her just as much, or if she was enjoying her new life.

She could see that sympathy and compassion shining in the eyes of the wizard and the elf lord. After a moment Gandalf reached out and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I am willing to be that you will see her sooner than you think," The wizard said with a soft smile and a mischievous twinkle his eye. Katie didn't see how that could be, but she certainly hoped the old man was right.

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

**A/N So today I got off school with a hop, skip and a jump in my step since my holidays have officially begun! Turns out I get a week extra holidays because I'm not going on the 'compulsory' year camp for our year. So guess what? Writing time! As such I decided to finish this chapter quick-smart as a me-being-happy kind of thing. **

**And guess what else? I am especially happy because of all the wonderful reviews you guys sent! They make me almost weep with joy every time! One more review to 80!**

**Thanks unicornsinpink300, PurpleFairy11, luvgirl101, bloodyrose1294, MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever and Knowing Grace for your awesome reviews!**

**Now, I'm running off because it's dinner time and we've begun watching BBC's Sherlock. Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman… need I say more?**

**Cheers, and until next time!**


	22. Chapter 22 Longest Lament

Chapter 22: Longest Lament

**A/N a bit of a time jump here. I think I make it pretty clear though… :D This is kind of just a filler chapter, closing some events and setting up a few others.**

**Read, enjoy and pretty please review.**

**~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~**

The final notes of the funeral dirge died away, dissipating into cool mountain air like mist. Khayl blinked away the dampness in her eyes that was ever present with the ringing tones of the heartfelt lament. She let the tip of her sword fall into the dirt and glanced at Kíli who was staring at the ground, stony faced with his sword still halfway through a pose. Over his shoulder she could see Fíli, who had laid one of his bare blades against his shoulder and the other rested tip first in the dirt like hers. In contrast to his brother, Fíli was looking up, perhaps at one of the mountain peaks, but his expression was just as vacant, a deep sense of hurt and loss in his eyes.

Khayl sniffed heavily, grateful that the mourning was finally at an end, but also greatly saddened that it was now time for everyone to move on; not to forget, but to put their lost loved ones to the back of their minds and move on with their lives.

It had taken time for the funerals to finally get underway; many warriors had been forced to separate after the initial battle with the orcs in attempt to hunt down those that had escaped. That had been when most of the fatalities had occurred. Orcs always had the upper hand when it came to stealth and guerrilla tactics, whereas dwarves were suited to fierce, thick battle. It had therefore taken some time to recover the bodies, and to confirm deaths where whole groups had seemingly just disappeared. Then there had been the wait for the rest of the warriors to return, as many had remained with the human villages to help rebuild and return to some semblance of normality.

Khayl wasn't even sure how long it had taken for it to all come about. Weeks, that much was certain, more than long enough for Fíli to be back on his feet. Then there had been another week after that where Kíli had spent all his time with his brother… the final day of mourning was the first that they had spent together.

Khayl had hardly seen anyone since the mourning had begun about two weeks ago. Most of the dwarves seemed to be involved with the funeral rites. With twenty seven dead there was next to no one left unscathed. The first day had been long and stifling, filled with lengthy speeches and appraisals of great deeds. Thorin had spoken of the great strength of the Khazad and of the passing of those dearest to us. Everyone had been in tears, even those too young to understand or those generally regarded as too taciturn to care. By the end of it, Khayl's heart had felt like a thousand pound weight in her belly, and she hadn't known a single one of the dwarves. She could only imagine what it must have been like for those who had lost loved ones.

That had been the only set of rites that Khayl had attended, much to her unspoken relief. She hadn't wanted to go in the first place, though not out of ungratefulness, but out of the feeling that she just had no _right _to be interposing on other's grief. But she had been forced to attend at Argo's side as Thorin had thanked them in front of the entire community of Ered Luin. Khayl had stood there, not knowing whether to be grief-stricken or proud of what she had done. She wanted to be both, but more than anything she wanted to feel guilty, since so many had died and yet somehow she had lived when she had gone knowingly to her death. Argo had been utterly emotionless with a face like carved stone and Khayl had tried to emulate that, the weight of so many eyes upon her trying to crush her into dust.

Since then she had not returned to the valley in which the funeral rites and burials were carried out. She had no place there now, since she had known none of those who had died. Somehow that just served to make everything feel all the more surreal.

Every day the people had gathered to commemorate the passing of two of their heroes, one in the morning and one in the evening. The humming, singing and instrumentals played from dawn to dusk each day, only to halt with the falling of the sun. It was enough to drive a person mad from persistent melancholy. After two weeks of that Khayl was more than ready to just sit down and weep until her heart bled. Again, she could only imagine how much worse it must be for those who were actually grieving, to be constantly reminded with every passing moment that your loved ones were never going to return to you.

"I'm glad that's over," Ira said, coming towards the three with a tray and pitchers. Khayl slowly blinked out of her reverie and felt her lips give a tug as Kíli physically shook himself like a wet dog. Fíli continued to stare at the mountaintops for a long moment before sheathing his swords and working towards them where they gathered around Ira. The three each took a drink and Ira took the fourth, all of them taking a biscuit as they sprawled out in the sunshine, deep within thought. The silence between them became so powerful that Khayl felt like she was drinking too loud and breathing like she'd just run a marathon. She seemed hyper-aware of everyone sound as Kíli crunched on a biscuit two feet from her.

"I'm not," Kíli replied eventually with the sensation of a tree falling in an otherwise still forest. "It means they're gone. Forever, and we just have to deal with it."

"That's the way it is, little brother," Fíli told him, and Khayl nodded absently in silent agreement. She cast around desperately for another subject, wildly searching for anything that didn't remind her or anyone else of death and loss.

"Your hair," she said abruptly to Ira, who looked at her like she'd just lost her mind.

"What about it?" Ira responded in a measured tone.

"You changed it," and she had. Ira's hair was no longer tightly bound in that high knot all about her head. Instead it was long and loose with tight little ringlets like Irisa's.

"I did," Ira replied with her eyes slightly narrowed. Khayl knew why she was so confused, as it was Khayl who had suggested that she change it in the first place. Khayl may have forgotten to mention that it had something to do with Kíli… who apparently hadn't noticed since he was now staring into his empty pitcher like it was the most interesting thing in the entire world. Khayl hid a scowl.

"What do you think of Ira's hair Kíli?" she asked him, not catching the confused look that came her way from Fíli and the aghast one she received from Ira. Kíli glanced up like a startled rabbit and flicked his eyes to Ira.

"It looks nice," he said eventually, after a lot of throat clearing and some considerable reddening of the cheeks. Ira also flushed deeply at his words. Khayl bit down on her lips to prevent a broad smile; she was finally getting to the idiots. "It's like you used to wear it. It's nice… I uh, like it?"

He glanced at Khayl as he said that and she rolled her eyes. Really, he was checking with _her_ in regards to what he should and shouldn't say? He would have been better off asking a boulder.

"Thank you," Ira replied with a tiny smile that caused Kíli to do the approximation of a beetroot.

Khayl caught the raised eyebrow that Fíli sent her way and sent a lazy headshake back to him, urging him not to comment. This conversation had been weeks in the making. But then Khayl watched both Ira and Kíli flounder as the sought about for a new topic, sentence, word, _anything, _and came up with nothing. Fortunately Fíli was two steps ahead of her in regards to a conversation starter.

"So, are you excited for the fête?" he asked and Kíli looked at him with wide, grateful eyes whilst Ira shuffled uncomfortably on the spot. Khayl just looked confused.

"The what?" she asked, not altogether familiar with the word.

"The fête," Kíli supplied. "It's a celebration of sorts, to commemorate those who passed in a different way."

"It's a celebration of their lives and their legacy's" Ira supplied. "It's only done after a battle or war as their lives were given for a greater cause."

"Huh, interesting," Khayl murmured, having trouble grasping the concept. The long mourning period she could understand; celebrating people's deaths… not so much.

"You're not familiar with it?" Fíli asked and Khayl very nearly stared at him in shock, not used to being addressed by the blonde, when she remembered to avert her eyes from his at the last second. It was easier that way; it lessened the tension between them to a vaguely bearable degree whereupon they didn't want to tear each other's throats out. Instead they could sort of pretend that they were rather ambivalent to one another's presence.

"No…" Khayl replied, awkwardly running her hand over the hilt of her blade. She wished Argo had gone over some of the finer points of dwarf society, like funerals for example, and then she could have just bluffed her way through it.

"Why not?" Kíli asked, well, demanded more like. His young face was adorably creased as he frowned heavily.

"Er… I, uh…"

"It's alright, Khayl. Uncle Argo told us about you growing up," Ira said, laying a hand on her friend's knee in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture.

"He did?"

"Yes, and I could tell Fíli and Kíli if you like," she replied. "They are like family to us after all."

Khayl just allowed her face to drop into a deep frown as she looked past all the other's to the forest that sat just behind Aro's home. Why was it that things were constantly reminding her that she just didn't _belong _there at all? Couldn't the world just give up and accept that she was there to stay? Filling her with all that longing and homesickness wasn't helping any of them.

"Khayl was raised by humans," Ira said gently, with a soft smile to her fiery-headed friend that went utterly unmissed. The look of pure melancholy on Khayl's face made her heart burn though. The normally bright Khayl just looked so dismal in that moment… "That's why she's staying with us and Argo; she has no other place to go…"

There was a heavy and thick silence as Fíli and Kíli both shuffled where they sat, trying not to look at the gloomy dwarrowdam. Kíli was gaining a new appreciation for his stout-hearted friend whilst Fíli was trying to come to terms with a whole new dimension being added to Khayl's multi-faceted character. No wonder she always seemed so out of place and difficult…

"I didn't know that…" Kíli spoke after a long moment. "Why did you never say?"

Khayl barked a short laugh that sounded rough and fake even to her ears and turned her eyes back to Kíli, smiling genially at the brunet. "How does one bring that up in conversation?"

"True enough, I suppose," he smiled uncertainly back at her. "I always knew there was a reason you were a little odd."

"Just a little?" Ira said in a teasing tone that wasn't at all like her. "Are you sure you've got the right Khayl?"

"Hilarious. All of you," Khayl muttered with a half-hearted glare at the duo. Ira and Kíli both laughed at her and she 'harrumphed' good-naturedly. Fíli sighed and stared out over the forest, wishing they would talk about anything except Khayl.

"C'mon then, back to it," Kíli said after a moment, clambering to his feet.

"What are you doing?" Ira asked in confusion as the others stood and followed the youngest brother onto the bare patch of ground behind the forge. "Sparring?"

"No," Khayl supplied helpfully with a small smile. "We're just going through motions, practising techniques and all that."

Ira looked thoughtful for a moment before she smiled broadly. "May I join you?"

"Uh… we're practising sword play…" Khayl said uncertainly, not sure what Ira was getting at.

"I know, you said that," Ira replied with that same exuberant grin. "I have thought about asking you to spar recently, but haven't wielded my blade in quite some time. I also didn't want to bother you… But this would be a good way to get back into the swing of it!"

"Literally," Kíli murmured with a small snort from behind.

"I … I didn't know you were versed in the art of the sword…" Khayl admitted, momentarily astonished at what she had just learned of this otherwise fairly reserved young dwarrowdam.

"Argo taught me," she boasted proudly. "Father didn't wish me to learn, but uncle said it was important since I am the eldest. He also said that everyone should know at least enough to defend themselves."

"Well…" Khayl paused, trying to regather her thoughts. "I suppose you learn something new every day."

"What Khayl means is that you're more than welcome to train with us, Ira," Fíli said with a great deal more grace than Khayl ever could have managed. She shot a half glare towards the blonde for effortlessly making her look like an idiot and then nodded her agreement to Ira.

"Wonderful," the female cried before dashing off and calling over her shoulder: "I'll just fetch me blade.

Khayl glanced at the two brothers who were both looking back at her with amusement splashed across their faces. Even Fíli.

"What?" she snapped half-heartedly. Fíli shook his head and turned away, unsheathing his blades whilst Kíli grinned broadly.

"You didn't know that Ira was skilled with a blade?"

"How could I know?" Khayl replied snappishly. "No one has ever mentioned it."

Kíli smirked and turned away from her, taking out his own weapon whilst Khayl placed her hands on her hips and pouted, before her expression melted into one of mild worry.

"What do mean _skill with a blade?_" she called to him. "Am I going to get my arse kicked if I spared with her?"

"Well…" Kíli began, his eyes flicking up to watch Ira who was returning from the house with her scabbard belted to her waist. She gave a few professional, experimental flourishes with her blade. "Ira has trained with Argo for over fifty years, whenever he was around. Not _five."_

Khayl sighed deeply as Ira trotted towards them in a tunic and breeches that hugged her form a little too well to be entirely for practical use.

"Fortunately, I think her attention will be on someone else, rather than me today," Khayl responded with a quick grin. Kíli frowned whilst Fíli barked a short laugh in the background.

"What do you mean?" Kíli asked in all his utter obliviousness.

Khayl just flashed a crooked smile and winked at him.

**~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~**

**A/N *sighs* another grumpy chapter that had to be dragged out kicking and screaming… I hope you like it, and if you do please drop a review. That would make my day… no, week.**

**I am especially thankful to luvgirl101, PurpleFairy11 and MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever for your reviews. **

**Songs for this chapter are ****_Althair Ar Nahm_**** by Enya and ****_Time _****by Hans Zimmer for the film Inception.**

**Thanks for your time and I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know if that's the case, or even if you utterly despised it! I love hearing what you guys think; it's actually the only way I formulate what's going to happen next :D **

**Oh, and this isn't the funeral I was talking about *grins wickedly* just keep waiting me lovelies!**


	23. Chapter 23 Iron and Steel

Chapter 23: Iron and Steel

**Please read, enjoy and remember to review!**

**Please forgive any silly mistakes!**

**~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~**

Ira's blade was awesome.

That was Khayl's only thought as she looked at it. The sword was bright, shining steel and slightly shorter than Khayl's own weapon, but much thinner and lighter. A weapon made for quick slices and thrust. A weapon designed to wear down an enemy rather than just obliterate them with a single stroke. It was a sword made for speed and elegance.

It was a rather pretty sword, all in all. But it was keen and the way Ira wielded it so easily in her hands made Khayl worry that she would have no hope at all without a shield or at least her hatchet and Khayl had always been fairly confident in regards to her swordsmanship. Heavens, she hadn't even seen Ira fight nor do anything more than flourish the blade…

"So what are we doing first?" Ira asked, excitedly bouncing on the balls of her feet, her cute curls and ringlets bobbing about her face and shoulders. Khayl shook herself from her reverie, and surreptitiously ground her heel into Kíli's soft toed boot to get him to shut his mouth. She was definitely going to have to tease him about this later… if his brother didn't get to him first that is.

"Uh, just some simple manoeuvres with a single blade, incorporating one and two-handed grips and some steps," Khayl informed her. She saw Fíli roll his eyes from behind Ira's back and wondered if it was directed at her or Kíli.

"Okay, so this is what you guys were working on before?"

"It is," Khayl said, restraining a smile as Fíli pulled a bunch of unflattering faces at his dark-haired brother who remained rather slack-jawed and vacant. Though, Ira did look incredible in those clothes, and seeing her wielding a blade must have made her seem incredibly attractive to the young dwarf. "We'll use it as a warm up then probably move into some sparring."

"Sounds good," Ira replied with another of those intoxicating wide grins that made her some young and reckless. Khayl wondered if she was just as oblivious as Kíli, or if she was basking in this attention after so long of being looked over. "Shall we get started?"

"Uh, okay…"

They took up positions, all four of them in a straight line, two and half metres apart and facing the looming presence of the forest. From there Khayl could see the paddock that housed Prour and the other ponies.

"How long since you last did this, Ira?" Fíli asked, ever the conscientious one.

"Quite a while," she admitted. "I can't even remember the last time."

"Do you remember the drills that Argo taught you?"

"I do," she said, nodding fiercely. "Every one of them. I can recite them by heart if I must."

"That's not necessary," Khayl said with a slight smile. "Fíli will call a drill number and we'll all go through the motions. Remember to be conscious of those around you since our weapons are all slightly different and therefore our drills have each been shaped to suit."

"Got it," Ira told them and turned to face front.

"Alright," Fíli said after a moment, putting on a serious voice like those used by a drill sergeant or a commander. "We'll start easy. Three!"

The four of them moved together, though it was a miracle in itself that Kíli was even coherent enough to participate. They moved from their various ready positions and cleaved overhead slices before turning them into a horizontal cut. Movement complete, they each stepped back and resumed the most appropriate ready stance for moving into the next drill.

"Seven!" Fíli barked, and this time four swords flashed up in a mid-block before sliding back and thrusting forward. The differences in swords meant that Fíli cleaved sideways instead and Khayl executed a similar horizontal hack. Then the swords all swept up and went for another high attack. A step, and a weighty slash. Drill complete they each returned to a ready stance, breathing lightly and swaying as each tried to establish their rhythm.

On they went, hacking, slashing, thrusting, stabbing and blocking their invisible opponents. With unparalleled confidence they sliced at the air, claiming victory each time. Kíli and Ira were well suited, with a more elegant technique that involved more thrusting and manoeuvring. Fíli and Kíli were similarly matched. Fíli's heavy duel swords required slashing and strength, where Khayl's had that broad tip and extra length, built for power and cutting through flesh and armour with ease.

They must have made an interesting sight out on that broad patch of dusty ground, all doing the same drill but each with very apparent differences. Where Khayl stepped, Ira lunged, and where Kíli stabbed, Fíli hacked. But they laughed as they were doing it, each comparing styles and stories as the day grew hotter and sweat bloomed on their brows. That was all that mattered to them in the end.

Fíli had been barking out more and more complex drills as they got warmed up and moving more fluidly into each movement. By now he was linking together for or five of them. It was rigid and difficult, and this time it was Khayl who was paying attention and noticed that something was wrong. Ira's arms were shaking each time she had to life them above her head or hold them from her body. But Khayl said nothing, knowing exactly how stubborn and impossible dwarves could be. Fortunately Kíli had no such qualms, and, as amazing as it was to see him actually notice something about someone, he also managed to avoid directly calling Ira out on it.

"How about we stop for a while?" he said, keeping one eye on Ira whose sword tip immediately dropped into the dust at the word 'stop.' Khayl thought it quite adorable the way he was watching over the other dwarrowdam, though she wanted to roll her eyes at him as much as his brother did sometimes… "It must be about lunch now anyway."

"I believe so," Ira panted and Khayl smirked slightly. Ira had been so eager before, and she was undeniably skilled with that slight blade of hers, but she lacked the stamina and strength that would be required in a real fight. In that way Khayl felt that she could beat her if they sparred. All she had to do was drag out the fight beyond Ira's endurance levels. She could do it if she had to.

The lads through themselves down in the shade out the back of the forge and by the look Fíli gave Kíli, he was about to find out just how bearable Khayl had been in regards to his Ira-problem. Khayl smiled to herself as she followed said dwarrowdam into the house and through to the kitchen where Mila turned and smiled at them.

"Having fun?" she asked, and there was an undercurrent to her voice that Khayl didn't quite understand.

"Yes mother, it's wonderful," Ira said in that adorable, perfect-daughter way of hers. Khayl shook her head at her naivety.

"Well I'm glad. There's plenty of food here for you and the boys, but you're all so dirty that you'll have to eat outside," Mila's voice was stern and somehow jovial at the same time as she watched her eldest flush. Khayl doubted that Ira had been told that since she was a dwarfling.

"Yes, mother," Ira repeat abashedly will Khayl grinned without restraint.

"Here," Mila passed her daughter a tray piled with dishes and plates of food that Khayl's mouth watered at the very sight of. Khayl went to take a tray of four drinks and some cutlery but Mila placed a hand on her arm. "A moment Khayl."

"Mila?" she asked confusedly, watching Ira leave out of her peripheral and wishing she wishing she would come back.

"I just wanted to ask you something," the dwarrow matron said in a reassuring manner, though it had no effect on Khayl whatsoever. "About Fíli."

"Fíli?" Khayl all but exclaimed, her brow wrinkling automatically.

"Yes, you know the blonde haired heir of Durin? Fights with twin swords? You seem to have a grudge match with him?" Khayl narrowed her eyes; the way Mila was speaking, it was almost like she was patronising her. And Khayl _hated _being patronised.

"Yes?" Khayl responded stiffly. Mila shot her a look that Khayl couldn't decipher.

"I told myself I wouldn't interfere," she murmured to herself before raising her voice to a slightly lower than normal conversational tone. "What's going on?"

Khayl felt her eyebrow drift up her face. That was… direct. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Mila scoffed, taking the tone she did whenever Fargo told a fib. "We both know that's not true, and so too does most everyone who knows you two. You constantly look like you want to decapitate each other, and that's on a good day."

"A good day?" Khayl echoed, wondering if they were really that transparent. Apparently they were.

"Yes, and on a bad day you look like you want to gouge his eyes out and feed him to the crows. Before you tear him limb from limb in the most excruciating way possible," Mila cocked her head to the side, challenging Khayl to deny it. She didn't. Instead the fiery-headed young dam just remained silent. "Believe it or not, he looks at you the exact same way."

"Oh I can believe it," Khayl murmured, wishing this conversation would just _end. _Mila continued on, ignoring anything she'd said.

"Now, I know you two seem to be better lately, but you're not, are you?" she asked, though it was clearly a statement. Khayl just stared back resolutely. They _had _been trying hard, but they weren't actually getting anywhere. If it weren't for Kíli there was no doubt they would stay as far away as possible.

"So _tell me _what's going on," Mila insisted and Khayl knew that there was no hope for escape when the matron took on that tone. So she shrugged nonchalantly.

"We just don't like each other," Khayl said, her eyes widening as Mila gave an unladylike snort.

"Bull," she spat and Khayl gritted her teeth. "There's more to it than that."

"So what? I hate the guy! He gets on my nerves like nothing else! Drives me up the walls!" she snapped, her hands fisting. "I hate him, and I can't explain it, not for the life of me. He feels the same."

"Khayl… young as you are I don't think it's quite as you think…" Mila began but seemed unable to find the words. Khayl narrowed her eyes at her again, folding her arms across her chest.

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that maybe it's not quite hate you're feeling…" Mila sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Aro and I… we didn't get along... at all, before… we were young. We didn't understand…"

"Khayl?" Kíli's voice called through the house and Mila's mouth snapped shout like a trap door. "You need a hand?"

Khayl forced a smile as he entered the kitchen, a willing grin on his face. Part of her wanted to know what else Mila was going to say, but another part of her just wanted to escape from this hugely uncomfortable conversation. Regardless, that side won out so she grabbed up the tray of drinks and shooed Kíli out, only pausing a moment to shoot a hard look back at Mila who busied herself with the cutlery.

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

Khayl did her best to force those thoughts from her mind, putting on a cheery face as she approached the others. Kíli flopped down next to Ira, perhaps closer than he ever would have done before that day, and Khayl carefully set down the drinks before taking the only place left next to Fíli, much to both their chagrins.

Over and over Mila's words hurtled through her head as she sat beside him, no matter how hard she tried to shut them out. They just kept coming back again and again.

"Aro and I… we didn't get along … at all..."

So she and Aro had hated each other… it didn't make sense to Khayl. Mila had fondly mentioned more than once that Aro and she had been made for each other, whatever that meant. Khayl hadn't questioned it, thinking that it had just been some sappy, romantic, poetic _thing _they had going on as the seemingly perfect couple, but now she wondered. There was so much she didn't understand about dwarves, and she definitely didn't know anything about dwarf relationships. Argo had been decidedly mum on that point.

Frowning deeply as she picked at an apple tart, Khayl resolved to ask Ira about it, preferably without blushing or stuttering or making a complete fool of herself. And definitely without alluding to what was actually on her mind. Ira owed her that, Khayl reasoned as she watched the dwarrowdam toss food at Kíli who grinned gaily.

"Oh!" Ira gasped after a moment, sitting up like she'd been electric shocked. She turned to Kíli with such wide eyes that Khayl thought a person could drown in them. Kíli certainly looked like her was. "I could ask you!"

"Ask me what?" he replied intelligently, looking utterly bewildered at this unexpected change of pace.

"About the quest!" Ira gasped excitedly.

"Oh," Kíli replied, his eyes flicking away from her and over to his brother, who absently stared at the sky, though it seemed more like brooding this time. Khayl was struck by his sudden resemblance to his uncle. "The quest."

His tone obviously suggested that there was no room for conversation there and Ira let it go, nodding her understanding. Khayl, on the other hand, had no understanding at all as to what was going on.

"How do I miss these things?" she asked the sky. Kíli snorted in bad humour.

"Because you're pretty much a recluse," he replied getting a face pulled at him in return.

"No really, somebody please just tell me what's going on," she said, almost pleading.

"Uncle's decided to put together a quest to take back Erebor," Fíli responded, flicking an innocent patch of dirt. Khayl was so shocked, once again, that he was actually speaking to her, that she nearly missed what he said.

"Isn't that a good thing?" she asked, bewildered. The two princes suddenly looked incredibly and ridiculously glum.

"Yeah, only we can't go," was Kíli's response. Khayl glanced at Ira who held her hands up with an expression that said 'I'm not touching this.'

"This is about you being too young and inexperienced again, isn't it?" Khayl surmised, and got naught but glum looks for her trouble. "He's not taking you 'cause you have yet to prove yourselves."

"That's not the point!" exclaimed so suddenly that Khayl jumped a little. Outbursts from him were few and far between. "How are we supposed to prove ourselves if he won't give us the chance? Besides, we're old enough!"

Khayl turned to his brother, realising there was probably no way she could get through his thick skull without getting stabbed. "You and I've been over this before, Kíli. Tell your brother what I told you."

"That sometimes we're right to question our elders, but we have to think about their reasons before condemning them or something," he answered, which caused Fíli's eyes to glance to his brother who had abruptly mellowed, as though speaking the words had suddenly brought him unexpected clarity.

"And uncle just wants to protect us till he knows we're ready. I know," Fíli finished, staring at the ground. "It's just that we've waited our whole lives for this…"

"There's still time," Khayl told him with a small smile. "I'll wager that nobody's gonna leave for a good long while yet."

"Aye," was the unanimous response, glum though it was.

"Come now!" Ira said, leaping to her feet. "Let us spar a little while before we must all go our ways."

"That sounds excellent," Kíli responded with a grin, and Ira stuck out one of her dainty hands and pulled the dark-haired dwarf to his feet with a mimicking smile.

The two practically danced as they sparred, their movements quick and sharp as they stepped, spun and flourished. It was almost mesmerising to watch and Khayl sat beside Fíli for a while in what could almost be called a companionable silence.

"C'mon," Khayl said, half turning towards Fíli, though she kept her eyes on the duo fighting. "A body could get old and stiff wasting away over here."

"Only if I can have two swords," Fíli told her.

"Deal," Khayl responded amicably enough before leaping to her feet. She turned in front of him and thrust out her hand in a way that was very reminiscent of Ira's own offer to Kíli. Fíli glanced up at her as he grasped her hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, his eyes catching hers as he was midway up.

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

Her hand was strong on his and he allowed her to pull him upwards, though he didn't volunteer any help. Out of instinct he glanced up at her and his gaze met her flashing hazel eyes. They widened considerably and Fíli knew, he just _knew, _that she had felt it too.

It was like a bolt of lightning that jolted from his chest to his navel, spearing him through. It was a searing, blistering pain, one that caused him to seize and gasp for air. Reflexively his grip on her hand loosened and she did the same, taking an automatic step back.

Then Fíli realised that he was only halfway up, and let out a muffled curse as his sprawled on his back in the dirt, scabbard digging into his shoulder blade painfully.

"Thanks," he grumbled, though it was clearly no one's fault.

"Sorry," Khayl murmured in a wholly unapologetic way, staring at her hand as though it had burned her. Which it sort of had.

"Don't mention it," Fíli replied gruffly, and he really meant that. As in 'don't mention this to anybody, ever.' Such occurrences were really beginning to freak him out. No wonder he hated the female, he couldn't even look at her without her causing him some kind of physical pain.

Nevertheless Fíli rolled to his feet and moved into the open area, as far away from Kíli and Ira's deathly dance as he could get. Khayl followed him a little hesitantly, keeping her eyes pinned on the ground exactly the same as he was doing. Vaguely he wondered how they were supposed to spar if they could do nothing but stare at the ground and shuffle their feet a little. Perhaps they could look at one another and see who would drop first from the pain.

"This is ridiculous," he heard Khayl growl. "Ready!"

He glanced up wildly at her call of ready, his body automatically dropping into a stance, just as she had done. Fortunately she hadn't rushed at him before _he _was ready. "Ready!"

They met in the middle with a flurry of blades, Fíli's twin swords harassing her left she twisted and blocked simultaneously. She used her height to bear down ever him and bring weight down on his upper body, which wasn't as easily protected with his heavy duel weapons. His arms groaned as he blocked and blocked, over and over. She was allowing him no opportunity to press his advantage with his speed and dexterity. Khayl put such strength behind her blows that he was having to use both weapons to block them.

She was fast too, coming in for another blow before he'd even had a chance to regather his wits and even consider a counter attack. The dwarrowdam's style was so unpredictable, but perhaps that was intentional. Even if he did get a chance to attack he wasn't sure how to go about it.

After another battering Fíli lashed out, trying to give himself some space. Khayl slunk away from the blade directed towards her guts and stood at a distance, her blade held low and to the fore, shoulders and chest heaving, her muscles quivering. Her gaze was fixed on his body, his weapons and his feet. Eyes could lie, his uncle had once said. They could deceive with a single glance.

Fíli took the brief respite to shake loose his taught muscles, watching as Khayl did much the same, her strong shoulders rolling and her forearms and biceps flexing back and forth as they circled tentatively. Her gaze was sharp and astute, not missing a single movement he made. She reminded him of a cat on the hunt, entirely fixated on its prey, the only movement a slight swish of its tail. They had never sparred before, and the whole thing was… exhilarating. It was the only time he could ever recall enjoying being in Khayl's presence.

With a yell Fíli leapt forward, pressing in _her_ this time. But Khayl moved back, out of his range. She kept him at distance with long sweeps of her sword, steeping and darting like a jackrabbit as he tried to crowd through any opening he could.

Fíli sighed. This could take while.

Or not, he reconsidered not five minutes later as he was once again sprawled on his back. Admittedly Khayl _was_ slumped across from him and breathing so fast he thought she's do herself an injury.

"Well, that was interesting," Kíli said, standing to the side with his shoulder touching Ira's.

Fíli glanced at Khayl and returned her abashed smile, too exhausted to care about the jolt through his body, numbed to little more than a timid burn.

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

**A/N because I'm a strange individual I woke up this morning with the intent to write and here you have it, straight from my sleep deprived mind. Plus, it's a rainy day today so no going outside for me. **

**After considering the matter with the lovely luvgirl101 I have decided to include a book of outtakes of everything that didn't get thrown into the story. It will include stuff like Khayl giving Ira the little horse, extra POVs etcetera. So keep an eye out for that. I'll add a note next chapter if I've done it! **

**Thanks to luvgirl101, Dalonega Noquisi, MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever and [insert names of future reviewers cause I know you're out there] for your reviews. I would be stuffed without them.**

**Also, just randomly, does anyone feel like making me a cover? One for the outtakes book would be nice too. Thanks! - eternal gratitude happening over here!**


	24. Chapter 24 The Morn of The Fete

Chapter 24: The Morn of the Fête

**Ah, the fete at last. Finally. Unfortunately this chapter didn't turn out quite as expected… A bit of a filler actually.**

**Please read and review! But don't forget to enjoy!**

**~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ **

"Khayl?" the rather distinctive voice of Kíli called her from behind. She rolled her eyes without looking at him, knowing by his nervous tone that whatever was making him nervous had to do with Ira.

"What've you done now?" she half-grumbled and half-asked. He and Ira had been a bit of a _thing _since they had all sparred together that previous week, but Kíli seemed constantly plagued by self-doubt and the ever present cluelessness that defined him as a person.

"Nothing," he defended himself and Khayl shot him an exasperated look from over her shoulder. "Only, Ira wants to go dress shopping…"

His voice had dropped to a low tone and Khayl realised that he didn't want anyone hearing what else he was going to say. Khayl had a feeling she was going to be rolling her eyes again.

"And…?"

"Am I supposed to go with her?" he asked half panicked. Indeed, Khayl did roll her eyes again. "Only, I hate shopping and it's the fete…"

"Yes Kíli, you're supposed to go with her," Khayl told him in a long-suffering tone. "You asked to accompany her today, and now you have to abide by your word."

"I thought as much," he grumbled half-heartedly.

"Honestly Kíli, you'll be spending time with _Ira –_what does it matter what you're doing?"

"Yeah, I suppose," he grinned slightly, evidently somewhat cheered by that thought.

"Besides, if you really find it that boring you can always play a prank on the shopkeeper. Ira never stops talking about it when you do stupid stuff like that," Khayl added, wishing he would just leave her to her own devices for now.

Besides, there was only so long Fargo's and Irisa's attention would remain fixed elsewhere, rather than their conversation, and she had a feeling that Kíli didn't want the two to know about his relations with their big sister. Because children can't keep their mouths shut, and nobody wanted Mila to know. Kíli would probably find himself shaved and missing important body parts.

"Yeah, yeah okay," was his response before he wandered off into the crowds with a slightly goofy smile on his face. Khayl rolled her eyes again, just for good measure, and pitied whichever shopkeeper got roped into his antics.

"See anything you like?" Khayl asked Aro and Mila's youngest children, nudging them both as she turned her attention back to them.

"Can't see," Irisa grumbled, bouncing on her tiptoes as though to prove her point. Fargo, who would never confess to being too short, simply huffed and crossed his arms. With a wicked smirk Khayl swept Irisa up onto her broad shoulders where she grabbed a quick fistful of Khayl's hair in order to keep her balance. "Ow you little goblin! Don't pull my hair!"

"Well don't scare me like that!" Irisa retorted, and Khayl imagined that she was sticking her tongue out at the back of her head. With a snort Khayl placed one hand behind Fargo's shoulder blades and guided him through the crowds until they slipped into a narrow pathway where they could walk between all the horse yards like the rest of the actual buyers.

Argo was a terrible uncle, he really was. Honestly, he spoiled those two dwarflings rotten every opportunity he got. He had decided to buy a pony for the children to learn to ride on, a small, sturdy, quiet thing he had told her, and then set Khayl loose to find the perfect one.

So that was why she was traipsing around in the mucky horse yards on fete day, not that she wouldn't have spent a goodly bit of time there regardless. Khayl also had her own motives for browsing with such strict scrutiny. It pained her heart to admit that she was in the market for a new steed, and had been for some time.

"Ooh look!" Irisa pointed and Khayl craned her head to see what the little one had spotted. It was a little pony with a bulbous belly and a tiny head. Its neck was quite thin from lack of muscle but it had good legs and a kind eye.

"He is a lovely little thing isn't he?" Khayl said, approaching the yard. Fargo shot her a quizzical look, which looked bizarre on his young face.

"It's ugly," he stated, wondering what the two females could possibly be seeing in the shaggy little beast.

"When you're looking for a pony it's best to look beyond the appearance of it," Khayl told him and Fargo nodded reluctantly as Irisa scrambled down from Khayl's shoulders, yanking on another piece of unfortunate hair as she did so.

"He's so cute!" she cooed as the pony approached the fence and snuffled at her. Khayl raised an eyebrow. The creature was one of those that was so ugly and different that it was automatically classed as 'cute.' It was chocolate brown all over, with thick matted fur and a mane and tail that was far too long to be practical. It had a white marking on its face, a stripe from the tip of its nose that bloomed outwards between its eyes into a perfect heart shape. On the left side of the heart was a dark patch, like someone had shot him with a gun. It was quite endearing.

"He's very quiet," said the dwarrowdam who was selling him, finally coming to join them. "Mah own lads learnt to ride on him."

"Huh," was Khayl's reply, too used to the shady ways people used to try and push along horses.

"Ack, don't look at me like that, I en't one of those," the female spat back at her disdainfully. "E's twelve this year, and not a thing wrong with him."

Khayl smiled at the woman. She was honest. "I like him. He's good all round?"

"Nothing wrong with him 'cept him being so darn lazy. Mah son's distraught that he 'as to go; can't keep a useless animal no more, and mah son's legs would drag on the ground if'n he tried to ride him."

"I think he is a fair little beastie," Khayl replied, her critical eye on the pony as Irisa blew hot air up his nose and he lipped at her, his whiskers tickling her face as she giggled. "I'll take him."

"I think he's missed kids," the dwarrowdam said to Khayl as the pony nosed at Fargo's pockets. "His name's Beau."

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

Khayl had seen the kids home with Beau and had left them fawning over the plucky brown pony with Argo, Mila and Aro watching on with fond smiles. Then she had returned to the horse yards with a clear intent in her mind and a rattle in her pockets.

"Hey," a soft voice called as she wandered between the makeshift yards once again. Khayl turned and quite sight of Fíli approaching her with a half-smile on his face.

"Hi," she replied, bewildered as to why he would actually be seeking her out. But then, their relationship had changed within the last week. Being mad at each other all the time was just so exhausting. Well, that was Khayl's reasoning for the change.

"Kíli said you would be here," he told her as he stood beside her, his eyes flicking from her to the animals moving about them.

"I need a new horse," she admitted with a glum expression. "Soon."

"What's wrong with Prour?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"He's getting old," Khayl hung her head slightly. Time was indeed passing, yet it seemed to be having no effect on her. "His condition's dropping off so fast and I fear he will not last the winter."

"Oh," a wave of compassion was on his face. No matter how difficult their relations were to each other, he knew how much she loved that fierce black horse.

"He has never recovered from when Argo and I fled from the orcs…" a look of extreme guilt washed over her and Fíli wanted to shake her by the shoulders till it was gone.

"That's not your fault," he said instead.

"I know, but it doesn't make it any easier."

They stood in silence for a moment, her not wanting to speak and he not knowing what to say. But then there was a sudden commotion and some rough dwarven cursing. The blonde and the red-head glanced at each other, both ignoring the burning sensation that raced through their bodies, and then made for the chaos.

A small horse had just been dragged into one of the yards and locked inside. Only, now he was ramming furiously at the gate, trying to barge through and charging at anyone who dared to go near him. One of the dwarves was nursing a sore chest and Khayl assumed that he had been kicked.

Some of the dwarves were flicking ropes at the horse every time he went near the gate or one of them, some of the ropes snaking out and slapping him on the chest, face or rump as her turned to flee their sting.

"Stop!" Khayl yelled, charging forward with an equally angry-looking Fíli half a step behind.

"Stay back!" one of the dwarves said, shoving at her as she tried to push through, but Khayl grabbed his arm and drove him to his knees. His cry of pain and surprise brought about the attention of the others who all stared, every one of them familiar with her after her commendation by the King. She growled very audibly and glared at them all before releasing the dwarf who scrambled to his feet and away from the furious dwarrowdam.

"I said stop." The dwarves all dropped back a step or two, away from the yard and even Fíli looked at her with confused eyes as she approached the snorting, ramming grey horse.

"He's wild!" one of the dwarves barked and Khayl shot him a glance that would have curdled milk. "Crazy!"

"He's not crazy," she replied softly before slipping through gate and facing the horse square on.

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

Fíli had no idea what Khayl was doing, truly he didn't. He had a lingering suspicion that she was borderline insane. Or else she had a death wish. The horse was not quite as tall as Prour, but thick set and heavily muscled and he looked absolutely berserk.

He wanted to shout out her name, caution her, pull her back, anything, but he just couldn't. She was so fearless and looked so very fierce at that moment that he couldn't squeak out a single word. The other dwarves all seemed equally as dumbstruck as the horse thrashed its feet against the ground and threw its head, heavy breaths being squeezed through its flared nostrils like an enormous set of bellows.

Fíli couldn't believe that the animal hadn't charged at Khayl yet, instead it just pranced on the spot, seeming to be threatening her, warning her to escape while she still could. But of course she did no such thing, instead moving to the very centre of the yard, forcing the horse to move out of the way which it surprisingly did.

Then, facing the horse, she flicked her right hand toward its bum and it leapt forward, though it was yet some distance away, against the back fence. The horse cantered and kicked as it charged around the fence in the direction she had indicated it to go. At one point it rushed about and went to charge at her, but she moved quickly so that she remained between the point of its shoulder and haunches. It continued moving in large circles about the fence of the yard.

Then Khayl rushed forward and flapped her arm, letting out a shout. The horse threw up its head and half reared at the sudden movement but turned on a time and proceeded to charge about in the other direction.

On and on this went, until the horse was lathered in sweat and trotting rather than flat out cantering. Quite a crowd had gathered by this time, though very few people spoke, all of them seemingly mesmerised by the horsemanship, especially those who had already seen the virile nature of the beast.

Suddenly there came a change in tempo where the horse lowered its head whilst trotting and began licking and chewing. Fíli flicked his eyes up to watch Khayl, to see what she would do with this development. He half expected her to yell and wave her arms about, spurring the horse on till he dropped, but he didn't expect what she actually did.

Khayl suddenly stopped moving, bending at the waist and throwing herself into a bow, head down and eyes respectfully on the ground. One hand hung limply by her side whilst the other came forward and hung in the approximation of a begging dog.

Fíli stared. Khayl was bowing to a _horse. _

He didn't know what significance this had in relation to the animal, since dwarves lack all but the most basic horsemanship skills, but his eyes nearly dropped out of his head when the fierce grey horse turned in towards her and walked up to Khayl, still licking and chewing.

He expected Khayl to then straighten up and rub the horses muzzle as it got closer, but once again she surprised him and everyone else. Before the horse got with a metre and a half of her Khayl backed directly away from it, still bowing and hand still outstretched. Fíli glanced at the crowd around them and nearly laughed as he realised that a good few of the dwarves actually _had their mouths hanging open, _especially since the horse was freely following Khayl about like a puppy.

There were murmurs of appreciation as Khayl backed around the outside of the yard and the horse continued to follow. Then she halted and turned the stretched out hand so that she could rub the side of the horses muzzle as it placed it in her hand willingly. The grey animal snuffled in her scent and pricked its ears as Khayl straightened and gradually moved her hand up so that she was cupping its large cheek.

Then, to the amazement of everyone, she touched the horse just below the eye and walked off with her hand still raised in that position. The horse followed, as though she had just clipped an invisible lead to it.

Khayl walked the horse all about, turning in all directions and still the horse followed willingly. She stopped abruptly and scowled as the horse took two steps beyond her, and she turned to face him and forced him back those two steps before resuming her place at his shoulder. They continued the process, walking and then abruptly stopping, repeating it three or four times until the horse stopped the exact moment she did.

Then Khayl took off sprinting across the yard in a completely spontaneous movement, and Fíli felt his eyebrows crawl up his head as the horse chased after her, shaking his large head.

"See?" Khayl panted as she approached the fence where the crowd of dwarves stood with slack, amazed and simply astounded faces. "He's not crazy."

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

"So how much did you pay for him?" Kíli asked, having missed the entire thing.

"Twenty coins," Khayl replied, thoroughly combing the thickset horse.

"Twenty!?" Ira spluttered.

"I know right?" Khayl barked a laugh. "That's less than what I paid for Irisa's toy horse!"

"He's incredible though," Ira breathed, running her hand over the enormous, dappled neck and into his thick mane which had new growth that tufted up like a Mohawk. "What's his name?"

"I don't know, I'm not very good at naming things," Khayl admitted, before taking the horse by the halter and leading him into the paddock. She gave him a last pat as she let him go, before watching with a wince as Prour threw his ears back at the mere sight of the grey, furious that Khayl had been touching another horse.

"Can we help name him?" Ira asked, and Kíli nodded with excited eyes. Fíli just rolled his own eyes with a half-amused and half-exasperated expression.

"Of course, in fact I insist!" Khayl leaned against the rail of the paddock and watched the large animal scouting out his surroundings with a curiosity that would rival a two year old child who sticks everything in their mouth.

"Hmm… what about _Zigil_?" Kíli supplied sheepishly.

"Silver?" Ira laughed and punched him in the arm. "That's original."

The names flew thick and fast between the two of them after that, with a lot of jokes and some serious misfires. But then a thought hit Khayl. He was so fierce, strong and definitely had a wild, wild streak in him…

"Ares," she said abruptly. The other two paused mid argument while Fíli raised both eyebrows.

"Ares?" Kíli repeated doubtfully. "Where'd you get that from?"

"In an old human culture, Ares was a god. The God of War," Even as she said it though, Khayl felt insecure about it. It was too outlandish, too out-of-this-world. It linked back to her own world too much. But maybe that was the idea…

"That certainly suits him from what I've seen," Fíli told her with a smile, cutting off his brother who looked set to express his doubts about the name.

"Ares it is then," Ira grinned, elbowing Kíli in the side. Kíli merely looked at the three expectant faces looking at him and turned towards the grey horse in the paddock. Then he threw a low bow, with his arms cast out to the side.

"Hail Ares, God of War!"

**~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~**

**Well, this chapter totally snowballed out of my control. Totally not intended, I swear. It was supposed to be a small part of the chapter and then I got caught up in it… **

**I should probably say that what Khayl does is a real technique for bonding with a horse; I didn't just make it up on the spot. I have used it myself with remarkable results. Also, Prour's jealous reaction is reminiscent of my own horse who chucks a huffy every time a ride someone else. Literally. He sulks and hates me until I ride him. It's kind of pathetic.**

**Anyway, enough about my retarded horse! I have kept a promise and uploaded Through Their Eyes: Outtakes, so go read the first chapter and follow it if you wish!**

**Please please please read and review. I had so many wonderful ones last time!**

**So thankyou to PurpleFairy11, bloodyrose1294, CrazyFanGirl18, unicornsinpink300, Dalonega Noquisi and luvgirl101.**

**Especially luvgirl101 who seems to be perfectly fine with me nattering away at their ear constantly. Seriously, I would have no idea what I'm doing with this story without them. LEGEND! **

**Also thankyou to all my new favourites and followers! I appreciate every one of them!**


	25. Chapter 25 Like a Lady

Chapter 25: Like a Lady

**You guys are so awesome. Seriously. Please keep reviewing! (You review, I write, yeah?) **

**I mean, seriously? You left me hanging on 99 reviews! Let's smash that big 100 together!**

**~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~**

It was noon when Ira dragged Khayl away from Kíli and Fíli, and more importantly the delectable meat pies they had been devouring for lunch. She grumbled the whole way back to the house by did nothing to resist since Ira seemed to be in an almost fanatic mood.

"Will you slow down a little?" Khayl asked to no reply as she was hauled through the front door.

"We're back mother!" Ira yelled through the house in an unexpected break of decorum.

Mila appeared at the door to her room and smiled brightly at the two. "Clean yourselves up, quick as you please."

"Aye mother," Ira replied as she tugged Khayl passed the dwarrowmatron.

"What's going on?" Khayl asked confusedly. Ira sighed and stopped in front of her as she all but threw Khayl into the bathroom where two copper tubs sat with a curtain that could be pulled between. The tubs were already steaming and Khayl could smell them both giving off very particular scents. One seemed to smell like vanilla, and the other was a crisp, citrus apple scent.

"Notice how the market was practically empty?" Ira asked and Khayl nodded. She had seen it and thought it odd.

"That's because everyone's preparing for this evening."

"Already?" Khayl asked, her brows flying up.

"Yes already, haven't you ever been to a dwarrow celebration? Dwarves miss no chance to look their best," Ira replied, almost snapping at the older dwarrowdam.

"_Sorry," _Khayl muttered sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. "But Fíli and Kíli were still there, and I would have thought they would have been among the first to get dragged away."

"And their mother will tan their hides and give them an earful about how they should have been earlier," Ira barked a laugh. "Now get in, and pick a smell."

"Hmm, an orchard or dessert?" Khayl mused before dodging a back handed swipe and choosing the one that smelt like apples. Ira hummed happily and Khayl knew she would have chosen the vanilla for herself but was just being polite. Two could play at that game.

"Is this fete really all that?" Khayl asked as she kicked off her boots and began to undress with her back turned to Ira respectfully. It wasn't unusual for them to bathe together but there was still a small semblance of propriety involved in the matter. Only couples were supposed to watch one another undress. It was regarded as kinky among the dwarves.

"Yes, it's a pretty big deal, but dwarves dress their finest any chance they get," Khayl took that tidbit of information and stored it away, telling herself that she _would _remember the next time she had to go to a celebration or party.

Khayl just grunted in response before stepping into the bath, the heat of the water combined with the heat of midday breathlessly reminding her of home where showers were incredibly uncomfortable if one bathed with heated water. But she slipped in any way, ignoring the muggy humidity that clung to the surface of the water like a thick fog. In just moments her face was coated in moisture.

She heard Ira drop into the bath beside her and caught a bar of soap that was flung at her head. Unfortunately soap is slippery when combined with wet hands and it squeezed out of her hand and smacked into the bridge of her nose. Khayl clutched her nose as Ira howled with laughter, and the soap disappeared somewhere in the bottom of the bath. She hunted for it before finding it sitting innocently behind her bottom. Khayl resisted the urge to hurl it back at the cheeky young dwarrowdam and instead set about scrubbing herself with the granulated bar. It scratched and reddened her skin, but it was a pleasant, temporary pain.

Mila came in soon after that, carrying a tray of oils and Khayl could smell their pugnacity even over the sharp scent of the baths and soaps.

"Does everything smell?" she grumbled as Mila set the tray down on a small table between the tubs. She caught sight of Ira wrinkling her nose at her with a cheeky grin and then Mila smacked her solidly in the back of the head.

"Once you're out and have dried off the scent will lessen considerably," she said, running her fingers through Ira's unbraided and already damp hair. She poured one of the oils into her hair and rubbed it in before combing any stubborn knots out. From Ira's frequent winces Khayl guessed it wasn't altogether pleasant and hoped Mila wasn't going to do hers. The smell of the oils made Khayl's begin to water and her nose twitch uncomfortably.

Her own hair hung still clasped and braided, and still perfectly dry over the back of the bath tub. Only the parts around her face were wet. She had discovered while travelling that there was no way she could get her hair undone if she was wet, even if it was just her hands that were laced with water.

Mila left Ira rinsing her hair vigorously and sidled in behind Khayl, who stifled a groan but apparently couldn't contain the miserable look on her face since Mila smacked her in the back if the head again and Ira sniggered.

Mila made quick work of the clasps and braids, her hands moving fluidly with years of experience and many hours of detangling under their belt. Before she knew it Khayl's hair was loose and flared out behind her like a wild, fiery mane.

"Your hair is such a remarkable colour," Ira sighed, fingering one of her own dark strands.

"Thanks," Khayl replied with a half-hearted smile. "But it's getting too thick and long to be practical fighting and in the forge."

"Well don't you ever _ever _cut it," Mila told her sternly before placing her hands on Khayl's head and thrusting her under the water. She held her there, piling her hair into the water and then rubbed all of the hair, making sure it was utterly soaked. Khayl came up eventually, gasping for breath.

"That was mean," she grumbled before jolting as Mila dumped the room temperature oil onto her scalp. Mila merely hummed and went about her business.

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

Khayl was under strict instructions. Only under pain of death was she to move. Although, Mila had warned that the death would occur if she _did _move.

Mila gave another tug at the back of the dress but Khayl stubbornly refuse to suck it in, knowing she would probably pass out eventually if Mila pulled the thing any tighter. When she was finally ensconced to the dwarrowmatron's liking she gave Khayl a slight push and watched as she stiffly moved about the room, hating every moment of it.

"Why can't I wear a dress like everyone else's, seeing as though you're actually making me wear one," Khayl grumbled as she moved, her back forced ramrod straight, her breasts thrust up and her ribs nigh on immoveable. That she actually had to wear a dress had been a bit of a surprise, but only because she was so unused to it. The last time had been… her brother's wedding. But that it had to be _this _dress was just not fair.

"Because you're not like any other dwarrowdam, and you looked exquisite," Ira informed her, clasping her hands before her.

"Thanks," Khayl muttered, not sure if she should be flattered or insulted.

Mila had made the dress especially for her, feeling that Khayl deserved something special, apparently. Khayl thought she just wanted to torture her _and _make her stand out more than she already did. The dress was forest green in colour, with thin golden embroidery crisscrossing the bodice swirling about the base of the sleeves which flared slightly. The bodice itself clung to Khayl like a second skin, but she couldn't deny that it made her look _good, _showcasing her flat stomach, thin waist and making her look like she actually had a decent amount of cleavage.

The neckline was wide and rather low, but managed not to make her look like a whore-in-training. It showed her prominent collarbones rather nicely, as well as a healthy dose of her golden, freckled skin.

From the waist the dress was fairly straight, though not without a few layers. The front of the skirts was actually split in two, so that the cream layer beneath was visible. The toes of her dress boots could just be seen. The arms were almost as tight as the bodice, which showcased the thick muscles in her arms. Apparently that was a very attractive to many dwarf males. They liked a woman who looked and acted strong. Mostly.

All in all the dress emphasised all of Khayl's finest features and hid away any that might not be so desirable. Like her tendency to slouch slightly. Being the tallest one around the dwarves had caused it to develop into a habit. The tight, ramrod bodice solved that issue.

It became very apparent what was going on when Khayl looked at Ira's dress. Ira's was far more conservative, with a close neckline and in no way clung to her body. It was a deep maroon and looked fantastic with Ira's pale skin tone, but in no way showcased her beautiful curves or perfect posture. It was the dress her mother had made for her. Her overprotective, traditional mother.

"You're trying to set me up," Khayl whirled, glaring at Mila who had the grace to look abashed. "You're trying to make me gain male attentions."

"You're a very desirable young dwarrowdam Khayl, of courting age now. I would be failing in my duty as a mother if I didn't make you look deserving of only the finest lad," she replied, her expression unbelievably sincere.

"Mother?" Khayl echoed, her voice suddenly dry and breathless. She felt like tears should have sprung to her eyes, but they didn't. She noted in her peripheral the Ira had escaped.

"Yes Khayl, you _are_ a part of this family whether that is what you intended or not," Mila replied, coming forward and gently grasping Khayl's upper arms. "I know all of my children think of you as their sister, and I know Aro thinks of you as another scamp under his feet."

"And – and Argo?" Khayl asked, trying to clear the sudden clogging in her throat.

"Argo you'll have to speak to yourself," Mila responded, before leaning forward and resting her forehead against Khayl's. The females leaned into the touch for a moment before pulling away.

"Now, you will enjoy this party, and if some lad comes up to you and asks for a dance you will not scowl, or snort or laugh. You will take his hand and accompany him to the dance floor or so help me I _will _have your hide," Mila reprimanded her in advance, and Khayl rolled her eyes, having to been intending to just that.

"Yes Mila," Khayl bowed her head, trying to disguise the tiny smirk that leapt to her lips. Suddenly she felt very whole and full, but it was as though there was still a little patch of darkness in her heart, something yet unfulfilled. She couldn't comprehend it at all.

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

The family met out the front of the house and gathered for a moment before the well that sat there. Khayl desperately wished she had a camera at that moment. The sun was in the perfect position, just lowering itself below the mountain range and leaving everything basked in a perfect golden light.

They were all done in their finest, beards trimmed and combed, beads polished and skin scrubbed to within an inch of its life. Aro and Argo stood conversing, their coats and tunics embroidered and vibrant. Fargo stood with them, once again pretending to be far older than his miniscule years and looking every bit the miniature Argo. He looked a great deal like his uncle.

Ira stood trying to pin down one of Irisa's wayward curls with her thumb but to no avail. When she spotted Khayl the little dwarfling wrapped herself around the dwarrowdam's knees, hidden somewhere beneath her skirts, and smiled broadly, her curls bouncing as she did.

"You look beautiful," she cooed as she darted back to Ira who rolled her eyes but smiled genially at Khayl, who flushed in turn as the rest turned to look at her. The all cut their eyes away and began talking amongst themselves again as Argo approached her, looking uncomfortable.

"She's right; you look every bit the young lady," he smiled slightly at Khayl's half-hearted glare. "I have something for you though."

Khayl watched as Argo reached into one of the pockets inside his coat and drew forth a large, thin, velveteen box. She took it with immense hesitation, both dread and excitement curling in her stomach.

Upon opening the lid Khayl had to clench her jaw to stop it from dropping open. A golden necklace made of thick, interlocking panels of gold. It looked like an angel with its wing spread, intended to curve about the shape of her neck if she thought abstractly. It was made with the geometric designs customary of dwarves and set of two chains to take the weight. The very centre panel hung lowest and in its very heart was a diamond the size of her smallest finger nail.

"Argo, it's – wow, just, I don't know what to say…" Khayl fumbled, taking the necklace into her hand. "It's perfect. Beautiful in the extreme."

"You wear gold," he said awkwardly, tugging at the tips of his beard. "I thought you deserved naught but the finest, and uh, diamonds match everything so…"

She didn't allow him to finish his ramblings, instead wrapping in a powerful embrace, ignoring the way the dress protested and tried to restrict the movement. After a brief moment she felt his powerful arms curl around her back.

They stood awkwardly after that, neither of them altogether comfortable with displays of affection, particularly not in front of other, even if it was only family. But then Aro had the good grace to take his wife's arm and begin leading them away, towards the fete. After a hesitation Argo offered Khayl his arm and she took it gratefully with a smile, watching Ira stand between her younger siblings and usher them on.

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

That the fete was being hosted in the middle of the forest continued to bewilder Khayl even as she walked onwards, but she had long ago surmised that dwarves were strange beings indeed and instead made no comment, just deciding to go with it. Maybe she would ask Ira later.

Red lanterns lined the path, casting an eerie glow throughout the trees and over those passing between them. They really made one's heart constrict in their chest with anticipation for what was to come.

Once they actually arrived it was with a horribly veiled air of excitement. Ira, Irisa and Fargo were practically leaping with excitement and Khayl felt like she wasn't far behind. Argo was stepping taller than he usually would, Aro had a smile that wouldn't retreat from his face and Mila was all but dragging her husband, her usual chatter exchanged for breathless excitement.

In Khayl's opinion having a great big party seemed to be a strange way to pay respects and celebrate great deeds of battle, but then she stepped into the clearing and all such thoughts raced from her mind.

There six immense tables, each made up of a myriad of smaller tables all pushed together and covered with dark red table cloths that would cover any of the inevitable stains. Four of the tables were evenly arranged around an immense bonfire, while the other two sat at an angle to the rest and outside of the square on opposite sides. All six were positively groaning under the weight of food and drink.

To the right, beyond the tables, was another massive bonfire, but this one was surrounded by nothing but compacted dirt with a band to one side playing a rowdy jig. Already dwarves danced there, loud peals of laughter echoing across the forest.

It was magnificent, and lined with more of those red lanterns. But she had little more time to ogle the display for Ira seized her arm and towed her away, waving gaily to her family as they went their separate ways. Khayl found herself laughing at her exuberance, the party atmosphere already contagious.

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

**Oh Lordy you people are wonderful! All of your reviews have been absolute fantastic! I've taken to squealing each time my phone buzzes and flashes purple! I ****_was _****going to write this yesterday but got utterly side tracked and was utterly lethargic also. But I'm much gladder I did it today!**

**Thank you to Wolves of Midnight, bloodyrose1294, PurpleFairy11, luvgirl101, Dalonega Noquisi, MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever and Knowing Grace for being totally fantastic people! Your reviews have fuelled every word of this!**

**As I say, if you want fast updates you guys have to keep reviewing! Otherwise I kinda have no idea what to write… 0.o plus no inspiration. **

**This chapter was written to a mix of TWO STEPS FROM HELL, including the songs ****_Merchant Prince, For the Win, Heart of Courage, False King, Strength of a Thousand Men and Archangel. _****Seriously great stuff. I love it. It has no relevance to the chapter whatsoever but is super motivating. **


	26. Chapter 26 Lasses and Lads

CHapter 26: A Night Of Well-Mannered Frivolity

**I couldn't resist the title! Whoever can guess where it's from can have some of my lolly snakes! **

**Thank you so much for all of your insanely awesome reviews! Seriously, I can't get enough of them!**

**Plenty of Fíli POV, so I hope you enjoy!**

**~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~**

"So…" Ira turned to look at Khayl from where she was seated right beside her and Kíli peeped over the female's shoulder. Khayl expected Fíli was watching from where he was seated on her other side. "Why's the fete held in a forest?"

"What do mean?" Kíli asked, scrunching his face up in confusion.

"I mean what I said," Khayl rolled her eyes. "I would expect something like this to be held in mountain halls or among the stone."

Ira glanced back at Kíli and the both shrugged, neither knowing the answer nor having worried about it before. Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly, it was Fíli who answered their question.

"Kíli and Ira are too young to remember," he said in a solemn voice and prodded at a half-eaten pudding. "Kíli was only two when we held the first fete here, and I was seven."

Khayl stayed silent, wondering as to the relevance behind the ages.

"Our father had died in a battle against humans who were adverse to us settling here. We grieved for him, and then we celebrated his life."

"That must have been hard for one so young," Khayl said softly. Fíli smiled sadly, the red lamps making his hair glow like fire.

"It was, and Thorin saw how distraught our mother was. A fete is an old tradition, but uncle began the tradition of it being held in the forest, away from the stone in which our loved ones were buried. He decreed that the celebrations should be full of joy and peace, a time to put aside old hates so that our dead would wish to walk among us again, if only for a night," Fíli smiled and tilted his head back, gazing at the starts that were just visible between the thickly knit leaves. "The idea is that by being away from the entombed, they would have to seek us out rather than just enjoy the festivities from where they lay."

"That's… very sneaky," Khayl said, but couldn't summon the desire to be filled with ill will against it amongst such light hearted company. "Drawing the dead away from their resting places just so you can see them again. Has it ever worked?"

"I believe…" Fíli began, rolling his head around so that he glanced at her lazily from the corner of his eye with that same serene smile on his lips. "I believe that their spirits come amongst us to join in our celebrations. Tonight the younger dwarves will remain behind and we all attempt to glean a little something from them, whether it be courage, knowledge, skill or empathy, we all ask our loved ones for something come midnight."

"What do you ask for?" Khayl asked Fíli softly, their conversation nearly lost beneath the tumultuous revelry that surrounded them.

The prince stared of into the trees where the shadows were so thick you could almost touch them, and he sighed.

"Forgiveness."

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

From the moment she had walked into that clearing and stepped into the firelight Khayl had possessed the rapt attention of every young, eligible male present. Some weren't even young or eligible.

Her hair was like wild, untamed dragon fire in the red light, and for the first time Fíli had seen it hung loose and long about her shoulders. Her braids still fell from her temples and her hair was still meticulously pulled back from her ears but there were still elaborate knots and loops hidden all throughout the thick mass.

It made an astonishing contrast to the forest green and gold of her dress which stood out among the blues, purples and reds of the rest of the dwarves. And it did wonders to emphasise all the finer points of her body…

Khayl looked so lost and confused amongst the rest of the dwarves, her face standing out amongst the crowd as she stared all about her, trying to drink everything in. A number of males were openly watching her now, many of them with dark expressions on their faces that could mean no good to a young lass.

For some reason unbeknownst to him Fíli the sight of it caused him to clench his teeth and clench them he did. In fact, so hard did he grit his teeth that he could feel his jaw pinging, even through the aching. Then someone stepped about and took Khayl's arm, pulling her through the crowd. Fíli went from aching teeth and a clenched jaw to openly growly deep in his throat in less than a second.

"Fíli?"

Fíli whipped around, ready to deal with whoever was disrupting him, but then he choked off the growl mid sound as he came face to face with his little brother. He stared for a moment, confused as to what had just happened.

"You alright?" Kíli asked. "Only, you were making strange noises…?"

"Yeah, fine," Fíli replied hoarsely. He attempted to clear his throat and the sound of it gave him an idea. "Just trying to clear my throat. Ale went down the wrong way."

Kíli seemed to buy this and turned his attention away from his brother, before spotting friends

"Ira and Khayl are here!" he cried with all the exuberance that Fíli was used to, and Fíli glanced up, forgetting that it had been _Khayl _who had caused his little… moment. But now he saw that the figure, whom his mind –strange thing as it was – had decided was a threat to Khayl, or himself, he wasn't sure, was actually Ira dragging Khayl through the crowd towards them. Internally he cursed the folly of his instincts and, not for the first time, wondered what on earth was wrong with Khayl in order to make him react to her in such a way. It certainly wasn't normal, whatever it was that they had.

"Ira looks wonderful," Fíli said, though his addled brain warned him it probably wasn't a good idea. Indeed it was right, as Kíli's head snapped around and his eyes narrowed in a ferocious kind of way that indeed spooked Fíli. Especially as it was his _brother _who glared at him in such a way.

But it was as a rain cloud passing and then Kíli seemed to realise who it was that he was on the verge of snarling at and his eyes cleared, though he continued to look slightly puzzled. He awkwardly clapped Fíli on the shoulder.

"That she does," he replied eventually, though Fíli wasn't paying him an ounce of mind. In fact, his thoughts were whirring about what he had just seen. For certainly Fíli had seen jealous dwarves react before, but was that what _he _had looked like just moments ago? Over _Khayl? _What possible reason could there be for him to react in such a way?

It didn't make sense, none of it. How, or why, could the very sight of Khayl being touched or looked at by another cause him to completely loose himself? And why was it that when she glanced in his eyes, if only for the fleetest of glances, something burned through him with all the ferocity of a lightning bolt? Though it wasn't quite as bad as it had been previously; now that he was seeing her more and more often he was becoming accustomed to the sensation, and it appeared to have dulled to a terrible aching. It was an improvement, of sorts.

The females approached and Kíli stood, holding out an arm for Ira, who sat beside him gratefully. Khayl hesitated before she slipped into the seat next to Ira. Coincidentally it was also beside Fíli, who was now wedged in by an overly large, ginger dwarf on one side and a beautiful dwarrowdam who frustrated him to the halls of Mahal and back. He tried to shimmy towards the stranger a little but was jostled back, and was now even closer to the red head. They were nigh on pressed together now with the number of dwarves trying to cram onto the benches for food. Fortunately they were practiced at ignoring one another's presence by this point.

Eating was a joyous affair, though fractured by jokes, stories, laughter. But then the time came to clear side the food and for the ale, wine and other spirits to be drawn forth. Those who hadn't utterly gorged themselves swept a partner to their feet and whirled away to the dance floor. Kíli offered Ira his hand and they allowed themselves to be whirled away in the stamping, clapping, shouting crowd. Khayl and Fíli remained at the table, spaces around them opening and being filled with alarming rapidness. The constant whirlwind of half-recognised faces was enough to tire one thoroughly.

Khayl was halfway through a tankard when a young male finally bolstered his courage. He swaggered up behind where she sat, and she raised an eyebrow at him, her tankard halfway to her lips. His confidence wavered. Fíli curled his lip imperceptibly at the dark haired youth, before collecting himself and staring down at the table in rapt fascination, reciting every verse of an old ballad to help calm himself.

From the corner of his eye he saw Khayl shoot a glance at Mila, who had her eyes narrowed and was watching her, and then down the rest of her ale in one. She took the lad's hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet before escorting her towards the dance floor.

Fíli watched in a detached kind of fascination as Khayl whirled through the crowd with grace and poise. She allowed no emotion to creep onto her face as she danced and exchanged meaningless conversation with her partner. Fíli downed another ale and forced his eyes to seek out his brother who was merrily monopolising Ira who spun and danced with an immense smile on her face. When he glanced back again Khayl had changed partners and was in the process of being passed along again.

On and on the dancing went, with many a respite for refreshments of the alcoholic kind and when Khayl finally managed to escape she flopped down beside him, sitting closer than was probably feasible. Fíli had a feeling that she was using him as some kind of deterrent to the other males, not that the snarling in his chest had any complaints about that. But by this time his head was buzzing and everything seemed to lag a little.

"You don't look like you're having fun," Khayl commented, prodding his shoulder. Her touch was weak, but it nearly pushed him over sideways regardless. Her words seemed strangely accented, like the way she sometimes spoke when she was overly excited or frustrated. She smelled like… apples. Fíli hummed a non-committal response, his blurry mind not wanting to tell her that he'd been perfectly content sitting there trying not to wrap his hands around the throat if every male that touched her. It was something that still refused to make sense to him, but in his inebriated mind it no longer mattered.

"The elders are all leaving," Khayl remarked after a moment and Fíli looked up to see that what she said was indeed true. All of the dwarves who were either still children or not regarded as 'mature' youths were disappearing back towards town, many of them leaning against one another for support and still singing rowdy songs.

"Must be near midnight," Fíli commented absently. Khayl closed her eyes as there was a distinct change in the music playing. She glanced over and noted that the band had changed to a group of younger dwarves.

"What do we do?" she asked quietly, watching as all of the young dwarrow paused and just stood still, many grouped in tight groups or standing alone.

"Just close your eyes and open your heart," Fíli replied. He had a chance to see Khayl's slightly furrowed brow before his own eyes slid shut and his head dropped to his chest.

_"__Father… Father forgive me…" _he begged in his mind.

He sat in peace for a moment, allowing a sense of wellness to overcome him and flood his senses. Fíli wished he hadn't drunk quite so much so that he could experience the full effect of it, but he had needed to drink to distract himself from murdering all those who touched the dwarrowdam at his side.

The prince opened his eyes and looked at her, immediately becoming entranced. Khayl looked up at the sky somewhere above, her eyes closed and her face incredibly peaceful. Then, as though she sensed someone watching her, she glanced down, her mouth opening slightly as she caught sight of him watching her.

Later Fíli would never be able to explain why he did it. He personally blamed it on the ale and the atmosphere surrounding them. He would never admit that she just looked so beautiful and that his body was burning with … a need, for something.

They were so close together that it was a small matter to close the distance between them and tenderly press his lips to hers. Khayl moved into the kiss and Fíli, encouraged, brought up one hand to cradle her cheek. Her lips were so incredibly soft beneath his, and tasted like the sweet mead she had been downing like water that evening. Fíli couldn't resist the loud hum that echoed through his chest and up his throat. He felt… whole, even through his hazed brain.

They pulled away for a moment and Fíli shuddered. As soon as his lips had left hers his entire body had felt leaden and like it was on fire. Only the places where his hand touched her cheek and his knee brushed against her thigh were cool and pleasant. His head swam horribly.

"That is… strange," Khayl murmured, staring at him with puzzled eyes. She raised one hand and laid over his on her cheek, but not before he saw it shaking like a leaf. Khayl looked up, leaning into his touch and stared straight into his eyes for the very first time, and the two of them held the gaze.

Fíli was now familiar with sensation of being stabbed through with a bolt of lightning, but he had never ridden it out before. The longer he held her gaze the more it seemed to spread through his body, replacing the burning there with a more pleasant sensation that was like the burning but … not. The weights began to life from his limbs and he saw Khayl as though there was a brilliant golden light shining down over her.

Fíli's breath caught in his chest and his heart pounded rapidly before slowing and resuming its normal, sedate pace. He gulped and tried to draw words into his mouth to explain exactly what he was feeling…

"Khayl- Khayl I… what's going on?" He all but whimpered, seriously regretting having drunken so much, though Khayl seemed to be making him twice as hazy as any alcohol. Khayl continued to stare at him like he was a spirit of something. Then she swooped in and ensnared his lips in a searing kiss. Instantly cool, prefect bliss spread through his body, though his heart began doing somersaults again. He kissed her back just as fiercely and when they pulled away again he pressed their foreheads together.

They sat like that for a long moment, willing their heart rates to come back down and for oxygen to go back into their lungs. There was nothing else but them in the world.

That is, until a warg howl echoed through the forest.

**~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~**

**Sorry for the wait. I intended this to be out a few days ago but this chapter seriously did not want to be written. I hope it worked out alright… I'm actually really nervous about whether or not you guys will like it (Or hate me killing the moment…). Please tell me if you did!**

**Please forgive any stupid mistakes. This chapter is raw, since I tried to edit it but all the words kinda just swam together… Oh well! **

**Thanks to my spectacular reviewers luvgirl101, Dalonega Noquisi, unicornsinpink300, bloodyrose1294, Kiligirl32 (Fíli'sGirl32) PurpleFairy11, Wolves of Midnight, MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever and Knowing Grace! You guys are such awesome supporters!**

******Also, welcome and thanks to any and all who have followed along and/or added this story to their favourites list!**


	27. Chapter 27 Who Invited These Guys?

**Read, enjoy, review. AN at the bottom**

**~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~**

Khayl's eyes flew open and she gasped, knowing full well what the horrendous, spine chilling sound was.

"Wargs," she breathed, still leant against Fíli's forehead. His own eyes were open and wide. Khayl straightened up, threw bark her head and roared: "WARGS!"

Instantly the partygoers –who had seemingly frozen upon hearing the howl – broke out into absolute madness. There were shouts, a flurry of motion, cries for friends and loved ones and a few stray screams from those too young to be there but were regardless.

"Run! Back to town!" Fíli yelled, leaping to his feet and dragging Khayl up with him. "Come on! RUN!"

It was a party. Nobody had weapons. Oh doubtless there were a few daggers hidden here and there, Khayl herself had one strapped to her thick under the skirts of her dress, but there was nothing for dealing with wargs.

A young dwarrowdam dripped on her long skirts and Khayl hauled her back to her feet, pressing her between two males who took her arms and pulled her with them. Silently Khayl praised the community spirit of the dwarves, as the eldest youths guarded those fleeing and everyone lent a helping hand to anyone whether they be friend, neighbour or foe.

For orcs and wargs are doubtless the universal foe of all dwarves.

A spear flung from the shadows of the trees pierced a young dwarf through the chest and he fell back with a shocked gurgle. Khayl whirled, her long dagger in her hands as she scanned for the hidden assailant.

But it's difficult to conceal a warg for long and the beast came snapping and snarling out of the darkness, it's maw fanged and dripping. The orc on its back swung its axe into the side of a dwarrowdams head, her body folding instantaneously. Khayl saw Fíli reach for throwing knives that weren't there but then he pulled a curved blade from inside his trousers _somewhere. _With a yell he lunged fearlessly at the warg and its rider, slashing at the beast's head even as he ducked another swing of the barbed axe.

Khayl, as though drawn by an invisible thread, followed, her heart pounding furiously with fear, anger and the sheer rush of battle. The adrenalin in her veins burned away the effects of the alcohol, her mind clearer now even as her body fumbled slightly. She whirled around behind Fíli and plunged her dagger into the haunch of the warg, right alongside its back bone. The creature sagged for a brief second and Fíli swept his blade down and then plunged it up through the base of its jaw much as Khayl had done to the wolf many weeks ago now. The warg collapsed as the blade pierced its brain, and Khayl rammed her own weapon through the spine of the unbalanced orc, ending its miserable life. They tugged their weapons free from the reeking corpses and stood back to back.

Fíli had the orcs axe in his hands now and set about with great sweeping swings of the weapon, but it was ill suited to the quickness of the wargs and their riders so Khayl continued to harry and cripple their opponents even as she searched for a weapon.

It came in the form of a spear thrust down at her. Khayl spun, catching the end and slamming her elbow down on the centre, her sturdy bodice at last ribbing with the violent motion. The gnarled wood bowed and then snapped with a resounding crack. Khayl forced the ridged blade of the spear into the orc's chest and wrenched the other half of the broken spear from its lifeless hands. In the same movement she brought the blunt half around and whacked it into the snout of another warg before plunging the pointed half into its skull. The beast yowled, shuddered and collapsed, and fortunately had no rider for her to contend with.

There was a silly whining in Khayl's chest, like the buzz of an angry mosquito in one's ear. Rather rapidly the whining grew into fully fledged buzzing and she spun before spotting Fíli and Kíli back to back and contending with five advancing orcs.

Surmising that anytime something weird happened with her chest/body/heart/brain it had something to do with the blonde prince, Khayl leapt into action once again.

She sprinted towards them, her longer legs carrying her over the distance with incredible speed for one of short stature. Khayl jumped at the last moment, smashing into one orcs back and running it through in the same movement. Then she was up and swinging her two halves of a spear like a bludgeon and a short spear, both moving in rapid succession.

Fíli and Kíli leapt into the fray beside her, Fíli hacking away with his axe and Kíli going at it with a wicked-looking curved sword. The orcs fell but then there were more, always more.

A startled scream wrenched the air and Khayl whirled around seeing Ira being hauled into the air by an orc, its grasp firm on her hair. Khayl panicked, and went to run towards the young dwarrowdam, but something wrapped around her legs and clacked hair against her bones, the taught cords cutting into the flesh beneath her dress. She fell forward, unprepared, and hit the dirt. She had time to glance up and see Kíli slash at the orc holding Ira, a furious snarl on his face, before something smacked into the back of her head.

Khayl's vision flickered and the world was seriously off-kilter when it returned. Everything was slowly… rolling? She vaguely saw a flash of blonde hair and distantly heard someone scream her name but then something was pulled over her head. The bag was tightened, the cord wrapped around her throat, and then Khayl was hauled up by the back of her ruined dress.

She struggled feebly as she was thrown over something, before realising that the something was actually furry, warm, smelly and moving. Khayl froze, horribly aware that she had just been thrown over the shoulders of a warg. The beast smelled like decaying flesh and dung, even through the horrid stench of the impromptu hood.

Over the ringing in her ears she could still hear some shouting and a few screams, but these were quickly quieted, whether through death or capture she didn't know, and Khayl couldn't help but hope that her three friends had managed to escape. Though knowing them Fíli and Kíli would have fought to the last and Ira would probably have remained with them. It was a sobering thought and did nothing to quell the dread blossoming in the pit of her stomach.

_Think happy thoughts, _Khayl told herself as the warg began to move under her, resisting the urge to struggle since a clammy hand had just pressed itself onto the back of her neck, the hands gnarled and claw-tipped. It was a chilling thought that the orc could snap her neck without a moment's notice and there was not a thing she could do about it. _Happy thoughts, Khayl! _

Immediately her mind shot to the kiss she had just shared with Fíli. Or rather, kisses since there had been two and by golly were they magnificent. Now, Khayl had kissed her fair share of men back when she had been a human in her own world, but nothing had ever compared to the sensation of Fíli's lips on hers, moving gently and sensually and so, so soft. And his hand on her cheek… rough and calloused by tender and gentle as well. How had it come to that? Ever since she had met him she had felt something but thought it hate and aggravation. Had it always been something else? Maybe it was some weird side effect of being a dwarf…

A stinging slap whipped across Khayl's half exposed legs, rough wood and spiny leaves digging in and tearing out again as the warg bounded through the forest. The sharp pain of it caused her to hiss but nothing more as the clawed hand tightened on the back of her neck, warning her. The dwarrowdam forced herself to hang limply even though her entire body was taught as a bow string, utterly ready for fight or flight.

The motion of the great beast she was atop of was making her more than a little nauseous, and she could feel the light-headedness and tight-chest of brewing vomit. She fought it down with all of the willpower she possessed, knowing that the hood was _not _going to be removed if she decided to retch. She cursed herself for having drunk so much that evening. It had been a stupid, stupid move though she of course only realised it in hindsight.

Stifling a groan Khayl continued to hang there atop the foul monster, listening as well as she could to what was going on around her. Through the bag over her head she could hear the pounding of the warg's large feet and the crunching of leaf litter and small branches all around them as the orc pack made its escape from the chaos they had caused. Every now and then an orc would grunt and snarl at another in their guttural language but they ended up speaking little over the time. Faintly she could occasionally hear a few stray groans or whimpers from what she assumed were other captives, but these were always rapidly silenced. Khayl wondered why such emphasis was being placed on stealth; it was rather unlike the orcs. And why had they taken prisoners?

It wasn't uncommon for orcs to raid and take prisoners as slaves that much Khayl knew. But she also knew that the slaves they took tended to be human as they were easier to manage and keep under control. She couldn't fathom a single explanation as to why the orcs would attack a major dwarf settlement. The risk was far too great; dwarves were well known for being ceaseless in their quest for retribution. And how had they known about the fete? Or when to strike? None of it went together in her head, none of it.

She just hoped that her friends were alright… She would never forgive herself if something happened to them whilst she got herself captured.

_Mahal preserve us…_

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Fíli groaned deep in his throat, almost inaudibly so as he was thrown down from the warg and his deadened limbs came into contact with the harsh stone ground. A small explosion of pain erupted all across his numb body before his entire form succumbed to a severe case of pins and needles. Even his tongue was burning harshly from the unpleasant sensation.

He lay still as the sensations died down a little, only to be triggered again as something soft but heavy was thrown on top of him, driving the air from his lungs. The body on top of him growled slightly, grumbling to itself, before awkwardly rolling off of him with a slightly pained grunt. Fíli shuffled a little to the side until his back pressed against something hard, like a wall. He shuffled his bound hands about slightly on the rocky floor, blind from the hood that had been roughly thrust over his head. One of his roving hands came into contact with what felt like a leg but whatever it was quickly scooted away like a frightened mouse.

Not knowing what to expect, Fíli reached up gradually for the sack over his head, struggling slightly with the knot that he couldn't see about his neck. Eventually though he managed to tug it loose. He hesitated a moment longer, wondering what the orcs would do if they saw him removing the hood for he could hear them shuffling and snarling to one another all around, some quite close to him, though none had stepped forward to stop his actions. So Fíli hooked his fingers under the edge of the hood and tugged it up over his head, gratefully taking a breath of fresh air.

Fíli sat still a moment, the hood still hanging from his hand and still expecting some kind of harsh punishment for his actions. He relaxed the slightest bit when one of the orcs looked directly at him with its slitted, malicious yellow eyes and did no more than curl its malformed lip at him.

The blonde prince took advantage of his sight to examine his surroundings. They were in a cave of sorts, not too deep but with a narrow opening the curved away slightly so that he could see nothing but the dim light of the moon through it. One of the orcs had started a small fire in the centre of the cave. Prisoners were arrayed around the perimeter of the cave, about a dozen of them and all young dwarves from the fete. Kíli was a metre or so away, recognisable with the finely embroidered blue tunic their mother had made. Khayl was almost directly across the narrow expanse of the cave from him, sprawled in her utterly ruined dress and clawing at the ties of her hood with shaky fingers. He would wager that she would have a far better view of the cave entrance than he. Fíli relaxed by another minuscule increment when he realised that Ira wasn't among them. That was good; Kíli had managed to save her before he himself was taken down.

It was doubly good because just about all of the dwarves who had been taken had some skill at fighting. They had been the ones who hadn't hesitated to lay down their lives to defend those who needed defending. Surprisingly or unsurprisingly Olg and a couple of her cronies were huddled against the walls also. Fíli knew that they were all fair fighters by the common standard, but he had always known them to be no more than bullies and bullies tended to scarper at the first sign of any real trouble. Perhaps there was more to them than he gave them credit for.

"Fee," came a hushed voice, and Fíli glanced over to see that Kíli had also dared to remove his impromptu hood. The stark purple bruising around his eye promised a formidable black eye in the days to come, his eye already immensely swollen.

"Kíli, are you alright?" An orc shoot him a foul look and growled deeply but made no other move to silence him. The creatures were being strangely tolerant of the dwarves, for it seemed so long as they were relatively still and quiet, the orcs couldn't really care less what they did.

"Better than is to be expected," Kíli replied softly, shooting a furtive look at the watchful orcs as he gradually shuffled slightly closer, manoeuvring his way around another dwarf who worked as a smithy in the lower part of town. Ahgr was his name. Presently Ahgr was ignoring them and signing carefully to his young brother Danr who curled up next to Khayl whose wary hazel eyes were watching everything and yet nothing.

Kíli sidled in next to Fíli and bumped his shoulder slightly before leaning on him. Fíli leaned into the touch and sighed.

"This doesn't look good, does it, brother?" Kili smiled ruefully in response.

"At least we are still alive."

"I'm still deciding if that's necessarily a good thing," Fíli response before he cursed himself for his pragmatism. Kíli, for his part, shrugged it off.

"Khayl just signed to us," he said and Fíli cut his eyes to the female in question who grinned crookedly at him. The mere sight of it eased something in his heart. "She said; '_where there's life, there's hope._' A fair point, I think."

"Aye, she's right there," he murmured back to his brother, nodding at Khayl and keeping a spare eye on her seeing as though she had integrated herself into their conversation. Her hands fluttered again rapidly in a series of precise movements that Fíli recognised as Iglishmek.

_'So what's the plan, oh mighty Leader?'_

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**Oh Lordy, look! I've actually finished this mother trucking chapter! It has been so long… Okay excuse time!**

**1, exams. So many damn exams. But I have survived. For now. 2, they took back my school computer for the Summer holidays. I type like a nanna and get seriously distracted when using any other computer. 3, I procrastinate. 'nuff said. 4, My spelling is terrible with this other computer… all the buttons are in the wrong places. 5, Busiest holidays ever. I literally have not stopped for the past week. **

**I have plenty more excuses but I won't bore you with them. Instead I am hoping that you perfectly wonderful people will review this horrible chapter and utterly chastise me for being gone for so long. Seriously, you review, and I'll write. Oh, and I apologise that the end of this chapter is terrible. My uncles funeral was today and I couldn't attend as I had to remain behind to take care of the property whilst my parents and elder brother travelled and stayed overnight. Hence why I'm writing at 12:30 in the morning. I literally have not stopped all day.**

**Please forgive me for all the crap and terrible mistakes. As I said, nothing can agree with me recently. But I'm hoping your reviews will get me back writing again! Seriously, I need the inspiration!**

**All of my love, you wonderful people! Thankyou for sticking with me! **

**Thank you to MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever, CrazyFanGirl18, unicornsinpink300, Knowing Grace, bloodyrose1294, luvgirl101, Dalonega Noquisi and Anju R for the wonderful reviews!**

**(Now I just have to wander around my house till I find a random corner that has internet connection. Then I have to hope that the wind doesn't change direction…) **


	28. Chapter 28 Strength

**Chapter 28 Strength**

**AN- Oh look! Fíli/Khayl! Lots of emotion but a smidge of light-hearted stuff in there also! Please remember to review!**

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_'So what's the plan, oh mighty Leader?'_

It took an immense show of willpower for Khayl _not _to roll her eyes as Fíli just looked at her blankly. Kili's expression was crossed between puzzled and curious. Khayl huffed slightly and glanced around before signing again. Fortunately all of the other prisoners seemed to wrapped up in their own issues to pay any attention to the silent conversation they were having.

_'They will need you to lead them. We all will.' _

Fíli looked no more enlightened to her meaning than before but Kíli's expression had brightened somewhat, so she took that as a good sign. That wasn't to say that she trusted him to relay the necessary message with the … delicacy required. The only thing Kíli knew about delicacy was that if you threw a ceramic vase at the wall it would shatter.

With a sigh Khayl pulled herself upright, rubbing tenderly at her head. She held out a hand to Danr and pulled the youngster to his feet, murmured a few choice words in his ear and then the two of them were shuffling around the perimeter of the cave. Their heads were bowed and their shoulders slumped, their pace slow and measured. They were keenly watched by the orcs on guard, and two of the most malicious creatures shadowed them, slinking along just behind and occasionally running a tongue over pointed teeth. They were waiting for their prisoners to make the slightest wrong move so that they could strike.

Khayl gave them no opportunity, maintaining the flawless charade of a perfectly cowed prisoner until she had returned Danr to his big –and rather thankful – brother and wedged herself in the open space that suddenly appeared between Fíli and Kíli as Kíli rapidly shuffled aside. Khayl shot him a curious look before her attention was on the blonde prince who had softly nudged her in the side.

"What did you mean?" he murmured. Khayl heard Kíli huff on her other side and could almost hear the motion of him rolling his eyes. She resisted the urge to kick him.

"I mean that we aren't going to get out of this without someone to lead us," Khayl replied, her voice husky from the low tone she was using. "And that someone is you."

Fíli's brow furrowed to the point where he almost looked affronted. When he responded his voice was an octave higher and it took a little awkward throat clearing to get it down again. "Me!? Why me? What are you talking about?"

"Seriously?" Khayl exchanged a look with Kíli. Kíli leaned towards her and cupped a hand around his mouth, whispering in her ear.

"He's been in denial about his status for as long as I can remember. Have fun."

"Well, that's helpful," Khayl muttered, half to herself and half to the world as Kíli pulled away again.

"What is?" Fíli asked, already on a whole other wavelength to the one had been only moments previously. Khayl stared at him long and hard for a moment. The way he was acting… it wasn't just denial, it was subconscious denial.

"You," Khayl responded. She thought for a moment before adding "And your brother,"

Fíli stared blankly. He wasn't intentionally avoiding what was going on, it just wasn't making it through his thick skull. Time for a slightly more direct approach then.

"We need someone to lead and inspire us. That job falls to you Fíli."

"Khayl, I can't- what you're saying is ridiculous-"

His voice was high pitched and loud, louder than she would have liked. He was really freaked out and it was gaining attention, and not any kind of good attention. The orcs were looking slightly spooked at this sudden outburst but there would be no hesitation to silence him in a painful matter once they collected themselves.

So Khayl silenced him in a far nicer and … more effective manner. She kissed him.

It wasn't a very good kiss. It was slightly panicked, a little too forceful and made rather awkward by the way he had been in the middle of speaking. But the coolness that spread through her hot and heavy body was worth it. The awkwardness went away when Fíli quickly –and eagerly – caught on and kissed her back, a deep hum echoing up his throat that sent tingles running up and down her spine.

"Okay time's up," Kíli's voice floated into Khayl's and out the other side. She paid it no heed. That is until a hand roughly yanked on one of the braids wound into her mane of auburn hair. She gasped, her head flying back with the motion.

She caught sight of Fíli's wide-eyed almost spaced-out look as he stared in shock at his brother and spun, fixating on a smirking Kíli with an aghast look of her own.

"What?" Kíli shot them a sly looked and Khayl's expression shifted into one of helplessness.

Braid yanking. Hair tugging. A cheery sign of bonding between siblings or an incredibly intimate gesture between lovers. Between lovers it could be used to surreptitiously show that a dwarf was claimed by the one doing the tugging. Between siblings it was like more like 'you're my sibling and I love you. In fact, I love you so much that I hate you most of the time and now I'm going to give you this bald spot to show the depth of my emotions.' Or, that was how Fargo had explained it before pouncing on Ira and hanging off several of her braids.

And since Kíli obviously didn't view Khayl as a lover it meant that he already viewed her as a sister, which meant he already viewed she and Fíli as … a couple… Khayl wanted to throw her bounds hands up in exasperation and scream loud and long. Dwarves! Why did they have to be so darned complicated!?

"Brother…" Fíli began looking warily around the cave. Fortunately none of the other dwarves seemed to have viewed any of their interactions, save Ahgr who was right beside them and very determinedly looking away whilst discretely shielding Danr from anything he might see that one of his age probably shouldn't. "I don't think that was appropriate."

In response Kíli simply grinned in that insufferable way that made it apparent that he knew something that they clearly didn't. He was ignored.

"Now, where were we?" Khayl asked, brushing her thumb over the short, bristly hairs on her chin. She tsked as Fíli's eyes brightened and he leaned forward slightly, only to receive a thumb in the chest from her fist. His very broad and solid chest… "Not that –oh! Yes, you're heir to the throne and therefore the de facto leader in times of crisis when Thorin or other certain elders aren't about."

"_Khayl," _he stressed her name. "I can't lead them."

"Then what the hell have you been doing for your entire life, if not learning to lead your people? Kíli, enlighten me please." Khayl all but snapped, trying to restrain her rapidly fraying temper.

"Hey, I'm staying out of this love spat," and just like that he was promptly ignored again.

"I'm not ready," Fíli hissed in a low voice.

"Consider it practice," Khayl retorted sharply. Fíli curled his lip.

"With people's lives at stake?" he ground out. "I think not."

"What will you do then? Mope about whilst we are taken one by one and eaten by orcs, or turned into slaves?" Khayl snarled. She was grateful that there was enough other quiet noise to drown out the sound of their … discussion. "Very honourable Fíli. I'm sure your uncle would be so proud to know that the heir he has groomed for his entire life turned out to be a coward when it really counted."

"Don't. Call. Me. A Coward," he hissed.

"Why? Does it wound your pride?" Khayl mocked. "Pride is for those who have earned it or arrogant fools. Take your pick of which you want to be."

Khayl stared with hard eyes as the blonde prince said nothing in response. She could feel Kíli's eyes on her back but her own gaze was fixated on the clenched jaw in front of her, the muscle jumping in it as he ground his teeth slightly. His blue eyes were piercing, like knives, and extremely reminiscent of his uncle's when he was in such a mood.

Then it was like a switch had been flicked. Fíli's gaze softened, and his low brows shadowed his tired eyes. His head tilted down so that a few strands slipped down from the crown of his head and hung down in front of his face, much like his little brother's often was. Good, she was getting through.

"Fíli…" she began softly, cupping the side of his face in one of her work worn hands. He leaned into the touch, closing those sad, resigned eyes. "Who will lead them if you will not?"

"You could," he murmured so pathetically it was almost impossible to hear. Khayl stifled a laugh.

"Nice try, but I'm no leader. I'm more the keep-pushing-people-from-behind-until-they-get-pissed-at-me-and-march-on-ahead type of girl."

"My uncle said a good leader always doubts as to whether they are adequate to the task," Fíli mumbled, his eyes still closed and his head still leant in to her hand. She reached her other hand up to brush away a solitary tear that snaked through the grime on his face.

"I think you've got that covered," Khayl jested lightly before sighing. "Leadership is a heavy burden to bear, but you don't have to bear it alone."

He cracked open a pale blue eye.

"Kíli's will always be here for you," she said, her stomach churning as the next words tumbled out of her mouth without her consent. "And so will I."

"Promise?" it was such a feeble, childish thing for him to ask, so much so that Khayl couldn't help but lean forward and peck him on the tip of the nose before embracing him in a fierce hug, though made incredibly awkward by their bound hands. She felt another lone tear splash on the back of her neck and his breath hitched for a single moment before evening out again.

"I promise." Khayl murmured into the corner of his neck and shoulder, her chest feeling heavy as a tear of her own traced down her nose to fall onto a small patch of his exposed skin, causing him to shiver at the unexpected sensation. "You can do this."

"_We _can do this," Fíli replied as they pulled apart.

"Wonderful. Lovely heart to heart," Kíli chimed, leaning around the two of them with smirk. "Now can we get on without getting out of here?"

"Agreed," Ahgr grumbled in his deep tone from behind. Khayl glanced at him and noticed that while he was still determinedly looking away, he still looked distinctly disgusted. Danr was curled up under his far arm but she thought she caught a glance of cheeky brown eyes watching her with a tiny flash of white teeth.

"Okay," Fíli chewed on his lower lip. "Okay…"

"How about we assess the situation first?" Khayl suggested gently, trying to hide the slight grin that wanted to break through.

"Agreed," Kíli gave her a knowingly look. Just because Fíli had been delegated leader didn't mean that they couldn't all pitch in. "How many orcs?"

"Nine in here," Ahgr informed them quietly, his eyes half lidded.

"And many more outside," Danr added from his brother's side. The older dwarves looked at the young one curiously whilst Khayl stifled another smile.

"Aye, Danr came up with the brilliant idea previously that the orcs wouldn't leave their wargs unattended 'cause they're still animals after all." The approving look that Kayyl sent the youngster had him glowing with pride. Ahgr tousled his thick brown hair with all the affection of a proud father. "We know that there were at least a dozen wargs since we were all carried on one, and there's at least one orc to a warg since they have specific riders. So that's nine in here and at least twelve out there, possibly a lot more."

"Either way, we're outnumbered by a considerable margin," Fíli mused, one thumb rubbing along the ridge of his jaw.

"When has that ever made a difference?" Kíli smiled slightly. "We're dwarves; we don't let a small thing like long odds decide our fates."

"Well said Kíli," Khayl smirked at her friend, his confidence rather inspiring. "Okay, so there are fourteen of us. How many are fighters?"

"Eleven," Fíli replied quickly. "Bramin and Solt are skilled hunters but from what I know they known nothing of fighting."

Bramin and Solt seemed to be close friends, or cousins perhaps. They were both rangier than most dwarves and with thin, hard cut features. The way their eyes constantly shifted about looking for the first escape caused Khayl to pin them as survivors rather than fighters. She wouldn't put it past them to bolt at the first opportunity and leave the rest of them behind.

"The other is Danr," Ahgr supplied, ignoring the indignant squeak from his little brother. "He should never even have been with us last night; he's too young. But I had to bring him, 'cause he's my little brother and he has no one else to watch over him."

"Your parents…?" Khayl trailed off, realising that it had been a horrible thing to ask.

"Gone. Killed by orcs when Danr was scarcely three."

"Then we'll keep it in mind during our planning that he needs to be protected," Fíli made it clear that he would brook no argument on this point. But Danr was determined to try regardless.

"I don't need protectin'!" he exclaimed in a harsh whisper. "I'm not old enough to fight, sure. But I can fend for myself! Don't risk everything because of me!"

Khayl stared at the youngster long and hard. He was a considerable amount of years from his majority and still had that babyish look about his face even as his eyes shined with a dark wealth of experience. His body and mind were young, but his soul was older, forced to mature before its time. The dwarrowdam felt a deep wave of sympathy towards the lad and told herself that even if it was decided that he wouldn't specifically have people looking out for him, she would keep a spare eye on him at all times.

"Very well Danr," Fíli acquiesced and Khayl knew that he was wrenched to do so. He was already making the hard decisions as a leader. "I won't set anyone to watching over you. Just promise us all that you will keep yourself alive, no matter what it takes."

Danr nodded eagerly in response and Fíli sighed heavily before reaching down into his boot, all the while shooting looks at the orcs who were supposed to be on guard but had casually taken up some game in the centre of the cave that consisted of throwing bones and stones. He pulled a razor thin blade out of the boot. It was slightly longer than his hand and about as wide as his finger, and thin as paper. The blade had no handle save some strips of leather that had been wound around and around the square end of it. It was the perfect weapon for concealment.

"Take this," Danr was shoved closer to Fíli and Khayl so that he could be concealed momentarily. Khayl placed her own body in front of his. Danr's tunic sleeve was quickly rolled up and the blade was placed on top of the sleeve of his undershirt were it was bound with a strip of material torn from the hem of Khayl's ruined dress. It was a team effort, requiring multiple pairs of hands given that their own were still bound together making every movement awkward, the thick, gnarled rope cutting into flesh.

"There," Fíli said, rolling down the sleeve and eyeing Danr carefully, the youngster doing his utmost to maintain a brave face. "We must all be strong now Danr, for it will take every ounce of courage that we possess to get out of this."

Khayl glanced at Kíli and the two of them smiled ruefully. He would become a great leader, and there was little doubt in their minds that freedom was now within their reach.

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**AN – Hmm, this chapter. I'm not so sure about it. In this story I really want to show that the characters have changed from the time before Khayl met them to when they undertake the quest, well, Fíli and Kíli at least. I believe that for a person such as Fíli it would have been very difficult the first time that leadership was thrust upon him, despite the fact that he ****_was _****ready. I really wanted to show that in this chapter, so I seriously hope it worked.**

**I also want to know why you guys think that the orcs have taken prisoners rather than just killing everybody! I have my plans, but I want to know what you guys think!**

**Also, what's your opinion on Ahgr, Danr, Solt and Bramin? Everyone has a part to play! And can anyone say stupid orcs? All of this scheming going on right under their noses!**

**Thank you so much for all of your lovely reviews CrazyFanGirl18, unicornsinpink300, Dalonega Noquisi, PurpleFairy11, luvgirl101, mk72 and MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever. I love and cherish every one of your reviews, and every one of them helps me ever so much with planning and scheming a better story for you guys! I can't wait to hear your thoughts on this newest chapter.**

**Until next time, me beauties!**


	29. Chapter 29 Grey-Skins

Chapter 29: Grey-Skins

The orc watched in silence, hidden in the shadowy entrance of the cave as the four dwarves, five if you counted the ankle-biter, put their heads together and began scheming, plotting their escape.

The twisted body of the orc shook as it silently laughed at their naivety. Dwarves were indeed thick-headed beings…

The demented monster shuffled its way out of the cave, moving with the utmost stealth over the rocky ground. The early morning sunlight that streamed down on the creature highlighted its features, making it apparent that even if beauty was only skin deep, this monstrosity had clearly lucked out.

It headed towards the leader of their foul little band, the big orc lounging just inside the tree line, looking the very essence of calm. Its warg was watching attentively from a few feet away.

"Well?" the chieftain asked, half his face painted with the blood of his most recent kills. Dwarf blood.

The twisted orc chittered excitedly for a moment before replying in the same foul tongue. "It is as you said. The dwarf-scum have wasted not a moment in beginning planning."

"They aren't the kind to stay down for long," a nearby orc mused, running a calloused, claw-tipped finger along the keen edge of the dwarvish blade he had snatched from one of their enemies' corpses. "The scouts say that the rest of the dwarves are already on the move, hunting us."

The smaller orc coughed a short, sharp laugh. "It will take them time. Even on their shaggy mounts it will take time.

"Keep those dwarves in there on track with our plans," the large orc gestured towards the cave. "When all is set, it must happen with perfect timing."

"These dwarves are keen for younglings," the smaller orc hissed. "Already a leader has been chosen amongst them."

"Which one?" Hissed the other orc, leaning forward eagerly.

"Gold-hair," the spy-orc supplied with a shrug.

"I thought it would be Fire-Hair, the female," the other orc slumped back with an almost disappointed sigh whistling through its pointed teeth. Several orcs nearby who had heard his words but were otherwise staying out of the discussion snarled, growled and curled their lips at the mention of the female. Whether those reactions were born out of fear or anger, or a little of both, one cannot say.

"This one, Fire-Hair, Kayhell, is mine," The chieftain barked, surging to his feet, the other orcs shying away. "None shall touch the female but me!"

The twisted little orc watched with wary eyes as the big orc tenderly ran a hand over the rough handle of its mace, a look of malicious hatred and eagerness for the hunt, the challenge, on its features. The little orc suddenly was glad that he was not the one the chieftain was hunting.

"This Kayhell," the name tasted strange on his the little orcs tongue but he felt obliged to continue telling what could be an important piece of information. "Is Gold-Hair Leader's mate."

The dark, sinister malice held in the chieftain's slitted yellow eyes was joyful to behold.

**~ ( ) ( ) ( ) ~**

**AN- and done! Sorry about the pathetically short chapter but if I wrote it any longer I would totally forget where I was going with it. Anyway, looks like the chieftain has a score to settle with Khayl! Kudos to anyone who actually wondered where that nasty arsed orc went that pounded Khayl into the dirt with its mace! He was always coming back haha.**

**Now, who said orcs were stupid? The plan these guys have is coming together in my head and kinda freaking me out with just how horrible these beasties are.**

**Anywhoodles, I want to thank Dalonega Noquisi, mk72, MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever, luvgirl101 and PurpleFairy11 for your wonderful reviews! I'm so sorry if I forgot to reply to any of you, but know that I read, loved and treasured every word you sent me!**

**I hope to hear from you all soon! In other words, REVIEW! **


	30. Chapter 30 The Escape

**Chapter 30: The Escape**

**First and foremost I want to apologise for leaving you guys with such a shoddy last chapter with the orcs and all. So a special thanks to luvgirl101, Dalonega Noquisi and PurpleFairy11 for reviewing!**

**Now, on with the story! A bit of violence in this chapter for all of you blood thirsty cretins out there! Enjoy, while you can. **

**~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~**

"I don't like this," Ahgr murmured as he, Fíli, Kíli and Khayl watched as Bramin and Solt, the hunters, slipped their bonds surreptitiously.

"We have no other option," Khayl informed him for what seemed like the hundredth time. Ahgr gritted his teeth.

"What if they just take off and leave us?" he growled, one arm reflexively clutching a dosing Danr to his side.

"Even if they do," Fíli's voice sounded strained at the very thought and Khayl gave him a small nudge of reassurance. "They will have to return to Ered Luin and then they will be forced to reveal where we are."

"Along with being beaten black and blue by a mob of angry dwarrow mothers for abandoning us," Khayl added with false cheer. She sobered immediately when the cousins gestured that they were ready to get the show on the road. "Prepare yourselves."

Khayl rubbed her unbound wrists and stretched her legs out in front of her for a moment, rolling her stiff shoulders to get the blood flowing again. She looked to her left and watched Fíli gingerly rub a knot out of his thigh, and then to the right where Kíli was warming his wrists ankles. She flicked her hands in a flurry of gestures and several dwarves from the far side the cave nodded and began their own subtle preparations. The orcs clustered in the centre of the cavern remained oblivious, having become complacent about their prisoners during the last two days.

"May Mahal's hammer smite your enemies," Ahgr blessed them, inclining his head. It was obvious that the burly young warrior was itching to be a part of this but none of them wanted Danr to inadvertently suffer for what was about to occur if it was to all go pear shaped. The youngster was, in essence, a chink in the otherwise formidable armour that the group of youths comprised of.

"That would be handy about now," Khayl quipped before she could help herself. Kíli stifled what seemed like a nervous snicker beside her.

"Stay close to me," Fíli commanded the two of them. "I don't want to lose either of you when this goes down."

"We're not children," Kíli grumbled. Khayl elbowed him sharply, shooting the dark haired archer a cutting look.

"I agree that we need to stay close; for peace of mind if nothing else." She said. Kíli glanced away, swallowing at her words. What they were about to was stupid to the point of insanity but necessary to ensure their continued survival. Kíli would be more relieved than he would freely admit to have his brother by his side. Khayl too.

"They're ready," Fíli said, replying to their comrades across the cave with some brief Iglishmek. Khayl couldn't help but think that having a secret, subtle sign language was an incredibly good idea. She knew that it hadbeen designed for working in noise like in forges, but it was ridiculously handy in a situation such as this.

"What are we waiting for then?" Kíli grinned wolfishly and shot to his feet. Khayl and Fíli leapt up beside him, ready as they were ever going to be.

"Khazad!" Kili yelled, bearing down on the orcs who looked up, startled and stunned.

"Khazad! Khazad! Khazad ai menu!" the rest of the chosen dwarves bellowed, leaping into action.

They carried nothing more than their fists, belt buckles and heavily decorated fingers into the fight, but dwarves are made of sturdy stuff and are doubtlessly stout of heart. Khayl had Ahgr's studded belt wrapped around her right fist, using it to both protect and deal damage as she collided with her first orc who had scarcely risen from the ground. Its jaw collapsed under the sheer power of the blow and then she punched it again in the throat, leaving the creature flopped on the ground and gagging for air. The dwarrowdam drove a hearty kick into the side of its head leaving it dead or unconscious, she wasn't sure.

Khayl glanced up just in the nick of time to spare her head from getting impaled by a rogue orcish sword that went flying past. She kneed an unsuspecting orc in the kidney and wrapped the belt around its throat, holding it back so that another of the dwarves could open its belly with a pilfered blade.

The orcs bolted, startled into retreat by the suddenness and ferocity of the attack. Outside they went, into the bright afternoon light where their eyes had trouble adjusting and their skin twinged uncomfortably. The dwarves pursued them, whooping and roaring; this is what they had hoped for. Khayl dove into the fray once again, lobbing a stone with startling accuracy and snapping a neck with a violent, quick-footed movement.

The rest of the orcs had leapt into chaos now, though no one failed to note that the wargs had been kept far, far away from the bloodshed. These creatures were intent on subduing, not killing, and the dwarves could press that to their advantage.

Khayl used her height to her advantage, dropping savage blows on the head, neck and shoulders of the orcs whilst her stomps and kicks had more range than most of her compatriots. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Bramin disappear into the tree line, quiet as a ghost. His cousin, she knew, was awaiting his opportunity within the cave. The dwarrowdam threw back her head.

"Khazad!" she roared. Her voice, the only distinctly feminine one there, was the signal, the signal that the hunter had gotten away. Khayl grinned as she saw Fíli and Kíli raise their stolen weapons, standing back to back, and echo her cry.

A furious roar echoed through the little clearing outside the cave. Khayl turned towards its source in tandem with most of the others, hands raised and ready, only for her blood to chill in her veins.

It was _him. _

The orc that had very nearly taken her life, that had left her for dead on the road to Thorin's Halls. There was no mistaking the thick, brutish face and the physique that stood head and shoulders above the others of his pack. Plus, there was the mace he had slung over his shoulder. Khayl was fairly certain she had the pattern of it written into her face in the permanence of her scars.

Oh, and he was coming right for her with vengeance in those yellow eyes. That was a bit of a giveaway too.

"Kay-Hell," he ground out, and Khayl bit back a laugh despite herself. She'd heard her name pronounced a lot of different ways, but that was a first. Normally it was Kayla, or Karly.

"Should have known you would be here, ugly," Khayl said in the stillness that had suddenly bloomed around them. The orcs lip curled and he bared his canines at her.

"You-" he began, falling over the word laboriously. "Were the only prey – to ever escape – me."

"Technically I didn't escape," she replied, a humourless smile curling the edge of her lips. "You ran for it."

"No one's – coming to save – you. Not – not this time."

Khayl cocked her head to one side, watching as those dwarves who were left in the cave snuck out of its mouth and took off into the trees on the eastern side. "Who said we need saving?"

The orc chieftain bellowed and whirled his mace in a clear challenge. A cold thill of fear raced through Khayl's heart but she ignored it.

"Now!" Khayl barked and the remainder of the dwarves, who had gradually edged towards the trees to the north, turned tail and raced into the trees, the stocky race for once not shying away from fleeing. Khayl whirled around and took off after the others, catching up within a few long, fast strides.

The big orc barked once and his warg loomed out of the surrounding forest, twitching spasmodically as it yearned to pursue its prey. He mounted and moved after the group of dwarves who had fought against his own pack.

"What of the others?" one of the other orcs asked, flicking its tongue over its pointed teeth. The Black Speech that rolled off his tongue seemed to paint the forest in shadows.

"Leave them," the chieftain commanded. "They will meet up quickly enough. How many did we lose?"

"Seven. At least two by the female," was the response. The chieftain grunted. These young dwarves were more dangerous than he had predicted. More resourceful too. No matter, all would go to plan in the end.

"Play your parts right," the orcish leader raised voice to address all of his followers. "and you will all be rewarded. We will crush their spirits and steal their futures. The dwarves will pay for driving us from our homelands."

The orcs around him snickered and looked about one another in almost fanatical delight. The Hunt had always been easy before the dwarves, plenty of man-flesh and no one to defend them. Now the dwarves, the same dwarves who had done so much damage to the great orcs of Khazad Dum, were going to pay.

"And when Oakenshield has been brought to his knees by grief, our master will take it all back and _we _will be the masters of these mountains once again!"

There was a rousing cheer and many excited chattering's as the orcs ran for their weapons and their wargs, the pack shouting fierce cries as they charged into the forest, revenge on their minds and hatred burning in their hearts.

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

Khayl had always loved to run. As a human it had been the sheer thrill of moving fast, the wind in her hair and the burn in her muscles, the sheer delight of experiencing the power she possessed.

As a dwarf running was a little more difficult. They had annoyingly short legs and longer, stockier bodies, which meant there was much more motion through the hips and knees, despite enormous boots that weighed said joints down. It was exhausting, ungainly and difficult to traverse uneven terrain. There was a reason that dwarves weren't long distance runners, no matter how quick they could be over short distances.

Khayl, Fíli and Kíli were managing remarkably well in that regard – despite Khayl being sorely tempted to tear off what was left of her dress and make like a streaker – but several of the dwarves were definitely struggling. It seemed almost as if the only reason they kept going were the furious howls that kept rending the air.

"C'mon!" Fíli yelled as they passed Solt and the rest of the dwarves who had been waiting. They had looked fresh as Khayl ran towards them but a brief moment of running left them all red-faced and gasping again. The dwarves of Ered Luin seriously needed to do some fitness training.

A flickering brown shadow loomed on Khayl's left, weaving in and out of the trees and she instinctively flung on of the rocks she had collected. The warg yelped and pulled away as the wildly thrown rock collided with its eye.

Mere moments later they were out of the thick of the forest and onto a stony stretch of land. As soon as it was hard stone under their feet the dwarves veritably flew over the ground. There were enormous cliff faces in front of them and a narrow valley between them, maybe three wargs wide if they stood nose to tail. That was where Solt was leading them.

They pounded into the narrow valley and raced between the stone walls, wargs snapping at their heels. And then… the wargs drew back, lingering in the mouth of the valley.

"We're back on our land!" Solt yelled from the front as though this provided an answer. They rounded a bend in the valley only to find that it abruptly narrowed before widening into a broad clearing.

"Here!" Solt roared from the front. He waved his arms wildly in the air. "We're here!"

Khayl whipped her head around and saw Thorin clearly, silhouetted at the top of a cascade of rocks that provided a natural staircase up and out of the valley. He looked over his shoulder and yelled something before more than a score of armed dwarves appeared behind him, Argo amongst them, broad grins evident on their bearded faces even from such a distance.

Relief flooded through Khayl's body, and the same showed on the faces of every dwarf they could see.

But that relief turned to a trill of alarm as she saw Thorin's demeanour shift as he roared something. Something that took a long moment to drift down to them, but by then it was too late. A single stone bounced of Solt's shoulder and he glanced up in confusion and with a wince of pain, only for another to smack him clean between the eyes. The force of it felled him instantly, thick dwarf skull and all.

"Above you!" Thorin's voice finally drifted over to them.

Pandemonium broke out. The dwarves were forced to run back the way they had come as a hail of stones rained down from above since Solt's body was blocking the way forward. They pushed and shoved, caring not a mite for each other as each fought to just survive.

Khayl fought her way to the front, her mind whirling furiously as she tried to come up with the fall-back plan they had failed to create. She could hear Thorin's dwarves yelling but there was no way through to them now; the orcs up above had dropped rocks down into the narrow fissure so that none could pass that way without a difficult and time consuming climb. The escaped dwarrow were now little more than sitting ducks. The orcs had the weapons, all they had to do was walk on in and take what they wanted.

All of a sudden they were back in view of the entrance where a thick row of wargs and their riders blocked all path of escape. They were well and truly trapped.

The orc chieftain grinned devilishly.

"Stand together!" Fíli yelled, his voice clean cut and commanding. "Form ranks!"

There was no hesitation as the dwarves dropped into position, standing in tight rows in the enclosed valley. Any weapons were passed to Fíli, Kíli, Khayl, Olg, Ahgr and one of Olg's cronies who formed the very front line. The flail was an unfamiliar and unwelcome weight in Khayl's hand but Argo had taught her all she needed to know for a situation such as this. Olg had somehow gotten her hands on an orc battle axe that was nearly as big as she was. Fíli and Kíli had half of a pair of twin blades each. Ahgr had a broken dirk and Olg's companion had some kind of spear that looked like a cross between a fishing pole and a halberd. An odd assortment to be sure, but every one of them was determined and very, very angry.

"Steady!" Fíli called before switching to Khuzdul. "Stay together! – forward!"

They moved as a single unit, the dwarves in the back picking up rocks along the way. Let it never be said that dwarves aren't resourceful when it comes down to a pinch.

"Khayl, Olg, I need you to rattle their ranks so we can break through," Fíli informed the two of them in a soft undertone, still using the dwarf language to keep the orcs out of the loop. "The rest of you, charge upon my word! Don't stop till we're out the open! Whatever happens, stay together!"

Khayl snarled as Fíli gave her a decisive though terrified nod, racing forward with a speed and strength that belied her dwarven stature. Olg let out a sound like a charging bull elephant as she thundered along slightly behind her.

Two steps from the orc chieftain Khayl did a quick sidestep to the left and planted her foot on an stone that jutted from the valley wall, using her momentum and the sheer strength of her legs to jump up and over the first few wargs, throwing herself on top of one of those trapped in the middle. The orc came off the warg and she head-butted it savagely as they hit the ground, rolling off its still figure and swinging the flail in a single motion so that it swept into the eye socket of the warg, blinding it and sending it yelping and running. The orcs and wargs that surrounded it were shoved, bitten and scratched until it was gone.

Khayl swung the flail so that the chain wrapped around a blade destined for her neck and yanked it from the orcs grip, the next strike caving in its chest despite the shell-like armour it boasted. Another swing of the flail and the warg had a crushed foot and then a shattered jaw.

Khayl was surrounded, trapped, locked in with enemies were above her and all around her. By the chieftain's words the orcs weren't supposed to kill her, but they weren't just about to let her slaughter their own. An orc leapt out behind her with the intention of seizing her but she spun past it and brought the spike iron ball of the flail crashing down on its hip before whipping around and blocking a strike from another. A blade swiped across her upper arm before she even saw it, causing blood to flow but no significant damage. She blocked a jab from a spear and went to return the favour only to have another orc jump out and startle her backwards, a warg lashing out at her and grazing her with its teeth, the flimsy threads of her dress offering no protection. There were too many, she simply couldn't keep track of them all.

Olg was off to one side, hacking away with her great behemoth of an axe and Khayl tried to fight her way towards the other dwarrowdam only to face a wall of teeth, spears and twisted sword blades.

But then her heart sang in its funny little way and she knew without turning that _he _was there, cutting down orc-spawn left and right with his little brother by his side. She joined the headlong rush through the mass of orcs, relishing the moment when they broke free and turned about to face the creatures of their own accord. No dwarf would die trapped and helpless that day. If they died it would be on their feet, fighting to the last.

"Circle in! Face outwards!" Fíli cried and the dwarves did just that, forming a tight circle like a herd of angry bison with their young and weak in the middle. The orcs paced around them, jeering and spitting. Khayl caught Fíli's eyes across the circle and smiled as best she could. They were filled with a well of emotion, fear, anger and tenderness within them as he returned her look. Then it was all back to business as one the orcs feinted in on their warg only to be rebuffed by slashing blades and well-aimed stones. One of the stones caught the orc on the temple and it collapsed like a sack of potatoes, its warg skittering away.

"We're going to die," One of the dwarves muttered bitterly from beside Khayl. Khayl shot him a look only for something else to catch her eye over his head.

"No, we're not," she replied in a measured tone, a broad smile gracing her features.

It was Aro, looking every bit the dwarf hero of old as he ran towards them, resplendent in his rather simple armour, fearsome sword raised aloft. He led another group of dwarves, Bramin amongst their number, just over a dozen of them, all bellowing war cries and out to kill some goddamned orcs.

Everything dissolved into chaos then. There were dwarves on all sides and wargs and orcs in every direction that one turned. Khayl lashed out at every piece of grey skin and fur that she saw, punching and kicking constantly as she had no room to swing the flail.

It was going well, Khayl thought. The field was thinning and it was definitely orc and warg corpses that she kept falling over. But a battle has a way of turning its tides even at the last minute. A scream rent the air.

It was Danr. An orc had him by the tunic, lifting him clear off the ground. The lad had lost his blade somewhere in melee and was about to lose far more than that. Khayl made for him, she was easily the closest. She had a dagger in her hand now and dropped it into her fingertips to throw.

Her heart gave that funny buzz that it did when Fíli was in very direct and immediate danger, the buzz blooming into a full-blown burn in her chest when she ignored the sensation, focusing on the task at hand. Khayl drew back and released the dagger. The blade caught the orc in the side of the skull and Danr fell free of it. Her heart screamed at her despite the relief she felt at him being unharmed.

Khayl spun instantly, a shriek springing to her lips as she saw Fíli on his back, the orc chieftain above him and a blade bound for the young dwarfs heart. The ghost of the dagger was back in her hand but there was no longer anything Khayl could do except watched wide-eyed as the blade continued on its unstoppable path.

Then Aro was there. Where he came from she would never know but he was there and he tackled the massive orc, the orcs blade driving into its new target.

A horrible sound rent the air, like the wailing of a banshee and it took Khayl longer than it should have to realise that it was coming from her. She was running, without consciously being aware of it, wrenching a spear from a bloodied warg corpse as she went.

The orc was back on its feet by the time she reached him and he met her challenge with open arms, red blood dripping from the dagger in his right hand. He lunged at her and she swept the blade away from her head with the spear shaft, striking forward and sweeping in the same movement, opening a nice long cut across his abdomen. He roared at her and tried to bear down on her from above only to receive a solid kick to the knee, a spear shaft behind his legs and a rough shove that sent him sprawling on his back. The orc lashed out with his feet and Khayl followed him down, him leaping on her, teeth bared like a rabid animal.

She brought up the spear and he impaled himself on it, writhing like a stuck fish. Such a wound would kill him, they both knew it, but they also knew that he wasn't going to go down without her. The orc grabbed the spear shaft and snapped it in the centre, striking Khayl across the forearm with the blunted end as she defended herself. Her foot came up and kicked the end of the spear the still protruded from his body making his body go rigid from the sheer pain. Khayl used the brief moment to dive on the knife that had been driven into Aro's chest and threw herself on top of the orc. The dagger plunged into its foul, black heart, the sheer force of the strike shattering the sternum and driving the blade straight through.

Khayl leaned back on her heels, kneeling, panting as the orc chieftain jerked twice before collapsing backwards and remaining dead.

"Aro," she forced his name out of her throat and turned, laboriously crawling towards his prone figure. He was surrounded now by other's, Fíli with the older dwarf's head in his lap, tears streaming down his handsome face. "Aro," she gurgled again, sobs rattling through her as she drew closer, yet still Khayl couldn't find the strength to stand.

Then she was there, knelt beside his head, his kind and worn features twisted in pain and the knowledge of impending death. Aro removed one hand from where it clutched the bloody wound in his chest and interlaced his calloused, blood-stained fingers with hers.

"Sweet Khayl," he said, his voice no more than a whisper. "Never forget – never forget that you will always have a place – within my family."

"Please Aro," Khayl begged, curling up and resting her forehead on his shoulder so that he wouldn't see the tears that streamed from her eyes. "Your children, Mila, your –our family needs you."

He touched her cheek tenderly. "Keep a closer eye on – on that lad of yours," Aro turned his fading eyes onto Fíli and managed a small glare even with his failing strength.

"And you- treat her- treat her right. Love her – al- always." His voice slipped away into a noiseless sigh and his eyes fluttered closed. Fíli swallowed back his sobs.

"Always," the prince repeated, and exchanged a stricken look with Khayl who no longer felt Aro's chest feebly rise and fall beneath her.

"Aro," she pleaded one last time, the weight of guilt curling in her heart. Her whispered words were echoed by a wrenching scream as her mentor and substitute father fell to his knees beside his fallen brother. He took Aro's body into his arms and sobbed ceaselessly, stricken in his raw grief, his cries echoing through the forest.

Khayl slumped, her body falling against Fíli's and she closed her eyes as she felt his sturdy arms wrap around her. She couldn't think, couldn't feel. There was nothing. Nothing at all.

**~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~**

**Author's note**

**I have been planning this for so long and I'm still crying… I feel like a terrible person…**

**Please review. Share in my grief. Sorry that the chapter is so jumpy. Also, poor Solt. What a terrible way for dwarf to go. Death by rock. (and I imagined a rock no bigger than a pebble)**

**Also, who guessed that it was gonna be Aro? Anyone?**

**I actually edited this chapter, y'all should be proud.**


	31. Chapter 31 Those We Leave Behind

Chapter 31: Those We Leave Behind

**Holy! So many wonderful reviews (Even if I did make a number of you cry *grins evilly*) I just don't know what to say except THANK YOU!**

**Yes, that means you CrazyFanGirl18, fayoregoddessofcourage, Gingah18, PurpleFairy11, bloodyrose1294, Guest Catriona, Guest mk72, Dalonega Noquisi,luvgirl101 and MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever! So many wonderful reviews, I don't know what to do with them! (Perhaps I should put characters through hell more often!) **

**Guest Catriona: Thank you so much for the wonderful and totally flattering review! I'm glad you like my writing style and the story I am creating! Welcome to our little family and be addicted (um, that doesn't sound right, does it?) I hope to hear from you more in future! Once again thank you for the review!**

**Guest mk72: I initially thought you were signed in to post this review so i forgot to add my response to the chapter haha! So now I'm editing it really quickly *blushes* Firstly, thanks for the review! You gave me some great ideas for this chapter about the ethical and moral dilemmas Khayl would obviously be facing so kudos to you! I am glad that my sadness in last chapter managed to be conveyed to so many of you :) I believe it was _you _*points accusingly* who called the orcs stupid in the first place haha! *snorts* rocking plan... nice one! Once again, thank you for the reviews and the ideas! I hope you enjoy this chapter and have a prideful little moment when you see the idea _you _gave me in there XD**

**So Thank you all! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Thorin strolled onto the scene and quite literally took over... XD**

"You should not be out here alone," his voice rolled over her like the rumbling of a summer thunderstorm and Khayl did not have to turn to know who approached from behind.

"Neither should you," she retorted gently, continuing to gaze out over the seemingly endless tracts of land, her eyes on the first traces of sunlight that peaked over the Eastern horizon.

There was a grunt of affirmation before Thorin's powerful form settled on the crumbling stone wall beside her, the steel toes of his heavy boots bedecked in morning dew from the grass. "Then it is a good thing neither of us is alone."

His words held double meaning, and Khayl knew that clearly, but made no response. She was certainly feeling very alone at that moment. Fierce waves of guilt and disbelief kept turning her away each time she thought to return to Mila and Aro's – Mila's home. She had disappeared as soon as her wounds were dressed by the healers, successfully avoiding any and every one. The girl-turned-dwarrowdam didn't feel the least bit worthy to be within a ten foot radius of any one at the moment.

But, Thorin, the King-in-Exile… he understood the whirlwind of emotions in her chest. He knew what it was like to distance ones self and hide behind barriers and indifference, to stand reserved from life until it completely slipped through one's fingers. Thorin Oakenshield would not allow the same fate to befall this bright and fiery young female, not when it was his nephew's sanity hanging in the balance also.

"I have sat here many times over there years," he said softly, rolling a small, loose stone between his thick, calloused fingers. "Always I look out towards the east and I envision that I can see the Lonely Mountain, our home, standing on the horizon."

Khayl made no response, taking in his words and allowing them to settle deeply within her brain. There was so much _pain _in his voice, just raw, undiluted agony still grasped firmly within his heart and soul from a long since suffered past. Thorin sighed and childishly tossed the stone as far as he could from the top the hill on which they sat. The two dwarves watched as it disappeared into the distance before ever looking like it was going to fall.

"This never would have happened in Erebor," he almost snarled after a moment. Khayl turned her sad eyes upon him and stared at his profile, head bowed and expression marred by grief, guilt and anger. Rarely did he let these emotions shine through anything but his eyes, and it was disconcerting at best.

"It sounds like a wonderful place," Khayl said softly, her voice harsh and cracked from grief. "Never have I heard anything bad of it." –_ save for the Gold Sickness and a dragon attack, but that could go unmentioned._

"Our people have always struggled to survive," Thorin told her. As per usual Khayl's heart gave a twang at the words _our people, _but she dutifully ignored it. "Always we have been plagued by strife; by elves, dragons, orcs, goblins and some things that are far worse than all of these things. Men are only our allies for gold and for protection. Sometimes I wonder if our people have any true allies left in Middle Earth."

There was a long moment in which neither of them did or said anything, save for the moment when Thorin tilted his head back and allowed the first rays of sunlight to wash over his tired features.

"Erebor was a safe haven, a fortress, a home where our people could live in safety, comfort and productivity." Khayl smiled wryly.

"So… you've come to convince me to sign up for a place in your company."

"I'm not sure I have to," he responded, slanting her sideways look.

"You're right, you don't," she looked to the East once again and fancied that perhaps she could see a tiny dark speck on the furthest reaches of the horizon, though she knew it to be folly as well as he did. "I would give anything for my family here to be able to live in the comfort and security you speak of. This settlement has suffered enough, even in the short time that I have been here."

"I couldn't agree more," Thorin turned a small smile on her, the barest curve in the corners of his lips. "In fact, Fíli and Kíli both gave the exact reason you did."

Khayl allowed a tiny grin to worm its way onto her face. "Though I'm willing to bet that they also flaunted the fact that they're the princes, they're of age, have been in real conflict now and Fíli would also have mentioned something about leadership, while Kíli would have stressed the fact the he _needed _to be there for his brother."

"That was indeed about it, though Fíli did happen to mention something about you in his short spiel on leadership, at which point Kíli started sniggering behind his hand to the point where he had to be excused."

Khayl tried for the best nonchalant expression she could manage and attempted to will down the furious blaze that was creeping up the sides of her neck.

"So they're going with you?" she managed to say at last. "On the quest?"

"Yes, I can deny them no longer. They are ready." Thorin looked deeply saddened at the thought, but managed to shrug it away before he unintentionally lay any more burdens at the dwarrowdam's feet.

"I'm sure they were overjoyed," Khayl replied without emotion. She heard a heavy sigh from the dwarf king.

"In light of recent events _overjoyed _is not the word I would use." There was another long pause, though this one wasn't awkward, though nor was it comfortable. "You and he are good together." He said at last, almost reluctantly.

"Who?" Khayl wrinkled her brow, drawing her thoughts out of the clouds. Thorin snorted in what may have been exasperation or irritation.

"You and Fíli," he said clearly, not missing the strange look that passed her face, though he couldn't for the life of him place it.

"Oh."

Thorin frowned; that was _not _the reaction he was expecting. He didn't understand how she could treat the subject with such ambivalence unless… unless she didn't know. He knew that Dís hadn't told Fíli yet as grief over her husband returned each time she attempted it. Well, one thing was for certain, Thorin was _not _going to be the one to tell Khayl. That was a conversation he could live without ever having to go through. He had no doubt it would be just as bad as the time he had to have_the_conversation with the boys.

"I ignored my heart," Khayl said as he was puzzling it through, the words almost painfully dragged from her throat. "I ignored my heart and when I turned around it was too late and there was nothing I could do."

The female sounded on the verge of tears and Thorin was almost reluctant to prod any closer, but he knew that there was little chance of her speaking and baring her soul, so he told his wimpy male side to suck it up and deal with the emotional female. Besides, he was curious.

"What do you mean?" she shot him a tear filled look as she debated whether or not to tell and he was struck by how _green _her eyes were through her tears, eyes that were usually a merry brown, though slightly mottled if he recalled correctly.

"What I mean is that I could have prevented it," she snarled, angry at herself and the past that she could not change. "I had the knife, and my heart sang out, it warned me that Fíli was- that the orc was going to get him, but I didn't listen! I didn't understand! I threw the knife and little Danr got away, but then my heart was screaming at me," she sobbed, clutching her chest in a gesture that showed she was experiencing clear reminder of the unpleasant situation. "I turned but I was too far. I could feel the knife, as though it was still in the palm of my hand, reminding me of how I had just unconsciously sentenced him to death! But then Aro was there and he… and…"

She moved forward until she slid off the wall, her body dragging against it as she slumped on the still damp ground.

"And you would have felt better if you had of saved Fíli, therefore saving Aro, and left the child to die?" Thorin asked softly, sliding down from the wall and sitting beside the troubled dwarrowdam. He had faced this same dispute himself a hundred times, faced it every time he thought back to Azanulbizar and the faces of those he had lost… he shook his head and forced himself back into the present.

"I don't know; I expect I would feel much the same, only worse for Danr is but a child! But Aro- he had such a family! So many who loved him, whereas it was just Danr and his brother…" Khayl buried her face in her hands before reaching up and clutching at the roots of her hair. "All night this has been going round and round in my head, driving me crazy and I can make neither head nor tails of it! How can I face Mila, Argo, their family, _my family, _knowing that I could have chosen differently?"

"I don't know," Thorin answered honestly. "But I do know that this guilt will destroy you. It will eat you from the inside. And don't think you are the only one suffering. I have looked into Fíli's eyes and I know it is destroying him also. He thinks that if only he was stronger, or faster, or more skilled he would not have needed Aro to save him. But I think that the key is accepting that it happened, that it cannot be changed, and that it was Aro's choice in the end."

"I understand, but that does not make it easy to believe," Khayl replied. "Is he truly suffering so?"

"Fíli?" Thorin queried, a small smile touching his lips at her concern. "Aye, but he will not show it."

"Stubborn." She said, only to be on the receiving end of a rather wry look.

"Indeed," they herein entered a long pause that Khayl knew was not hers to break. Thorin had something on his mind, something more than all that had already been shared between them.

"I must confess that my motive for bringing you on the journey to Erebor is about more than just your skill with a blade and your knack for surviving, though both indeed seem formidable. No, my motives are closer to my heart," Thorin hesitated, almost as though he were pained to speak any further. "Fíli is my heir, no matter how badly he may wish it otherwise. He will be the next leader of our people and take my place when I pass. If something should happen to me before we retake Erebor, he will need as much strength on his side as he can possibly garner.

"With your skills and your bond with him I can trust in you to keep him safe above all others. He needs to be watched over; he is too reckless and too loyal, as is his brother. This needs to be tempered with logical thinking and an iron will, such as you have."

Khayl was flattered, though feeling a little out of her depth. It puzzled her too; Thorin was talking about she and Fíli as though they were married, or at least betrothed or something.

"There is yet something else, isn't there?" she asked tentatively, not altogether sure she wanted to know the answer.

"Indeed there is," Thorin replied and he looked out towards the climbing sun, his face at last showing the years that she knew followed his name. "There is a … curse, if you will, upon my line. My grandfather fell to this sickness, and my father may well have done also. I fear the day it may take me, but more than that I fear for Fíli. He is strong, but so too were my predecessors…"

"I will watch over him; I've already promised to be there for him," Khayl said with a soft smile before adding: "But I can also swear that I will be watching your back as well."

"I feel infinitely safer already," Thorin said and Khayl nodded her head in acceptance of the compliment before narrowing her eyes and shooting him a dangerous look. He ignored her and stared determinedly ahead, though she could see a muscle in his cheek jumping as he fought down a smile.

"You are mocking me," Khayl said incredulously, her eyebrows shooting up towards her hairline. "Who knew that the great Thorin Oakenshield had a sense of humour?"

Thorin barked a short, sharp laugh, pleased that she had regained at least a small portion of her spirit. Truly the dwarrowdam was not one who suited to sitting idly by and being left alone to _think. _He stood and extended a hand, aiding Khayl to her feet.

"Come," he said, half asking and half commanding. "Dís no doubt has breakfast on the stove and I believe she would be overjoyed to have you over for the meal."

Khayl smiled gently, beginning to like this softer side that Thorin so effectively kept hidden from the remainder of his people. "I would like that very much. It certainly beats sitting out here alone, feeling sorry for myself."

Thorin reached out an arm and wrapped it around her as they walked, the gesture fond and yet casual enough that it didn't feel utterly out of place with his usually reserved personality. Khayl leaned into the gesture, drawing comfort from the physical side of it as well as the emotional side. The fur of his cloak tickled her cheek as they walked down a deserted path, the colour of the pelt and cut of the coat seeming oddly familiar to her.

"Where _did _you get this coat?" she asked, intending it to be an offhand comment but sounding rather too curious for that. Thorin shot her an askew look that said he wasn't at all deceived.

"Kíli had it made for me."

"And did he tell you how he got his hands on the materials?" Khayl asked with a raised brow.

"He said that you and he killed two wolves whilst out hunting, and that you each had a coat made." Thorin responded, though he now sounded as though he rather doubted the sincerity of his nephew's comment.

"Oh did he now?" Khayl smirked knowingly. "I bet he didn't mention that _I _killed both wolves and he gave me the coat made from the one that tried to bite his head off, eh?"

"You saved his life?" Thorin asked, sounding as though he was glad that she had accepted to join the quest.

"I did. I must confess though that he squealed rather like a little girl. And why has he never been seen shirtless by a female before? I mean, he's seventy-odd!" Khayl realised what she'd just said and flushed, her neck and cheeks burning crimson. "Uh, yeah, please don't ever mention a word of this conversation."

"I don't even ever want to think back on this conversation," Thorin replied and Khayl glanced up and sniggered at the disgusted look splashed on his normally stoic features.

**~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~**

**Author's Note**

**Well… this chapter… I really like it. I hope you guys liked it too! 'Uncle Thorin' was so much fun to write! I never thought I was going to get this chapter out because I couldn't find it in myself to just jump straight into the funeral and stuff and I really wanted to show Khayl's inner turmoil, as well as have her agree to the quest out of a need to protect her new family and realise that there's something else going on between Fíli and Khayl that neither of them yet realise. **

**I **_**really **_**want to know what you guys think. This chapter was never supposed to be this Thorin-centric but then it all just upped and ran away from me! I'm quite pleased with the effect myself. :D I mean, how rare is it for me to actually **_**like **_**one of the chapters I've written?**

**Cheerio my darlings, until next time**

**EquusGold, out!**


	32. Chapter 32 Touched

**Through Their Eyes**

Chapter 32: Touched

**A/N - W O W. Seriously. You guys! I don't have the words to describe how simply wonderful you all are! Some many sweet reviews!**

**I would therefore like thank unicornsinpink300, PurpleFairy11, luvgirl101, bloodyrose1294, alexma, moonlightkiss1515, Dalonega Noquisi, MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever, Prost, dormienticaputdraconis, mk72 and Anju R! That's 12! On one chapter! *Passes out***

**Anyway, its great to see so many reviewers, both the new and the old! I hope you all enjoy this chapter!**

**~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~**

Khayl followed Thorin's broad shouldered figure through the door of the Durin family's humble home towards the centre of the town, smiling slightly as she watched Thorin's head very nearly brush the dwarf-sized doorframe, ducking herself as she entered.

"Dís!" Thorin called in a quiet but carrying tone. It was still quite early.

"In here brother!" Dís' voice rang out, from the kitchen of course.

"We have a guest, Dís," Thorin said as he stepped into the kitchen, moving aside so that Khayl could be clearly seen in the doorway. A small smile crossed Khayl's face before it was replaced with a grimace as Dís swept towards her and engulfed her in a rib-shattering, lung-crushing and spine-snapping embrace.

"Khayl!" The dwarrowmatron exclaimed, practically lifting the younger female off the ground in what may have been relief, or just sheer happiness. "We were all so worried about you! Disappearing off like that after everything that's happened!"

Dís released Khayl, leaving her rubbing her ribs and trying to refill her lungs as she was pushed into a nearby chair. "Sit! Breakfast is nearly ready! You too Thorin!"

Dís turned and bustled out of the kitchen, down a narrow hall towards the back of the house as Thorin lowered himself into his heavy chair at one end of the table. Khayl was still a little overwhelmed by her welcome when there was a sharp yelp followed by a heavy, muted thump as something large hit the floor. Khayl eyed the hallway in some concern as Dís bustled out of one door and into another, the dwarrowdam completely missing Thorin's rolled eyes.

The same ritual seemed to be repeated in the next room, with a loud, heavy crash and a pained moan. "Amad," was groaned as Dís swept out of the room and back into the kitchen, yelling over her shoulder.

"Stir your lazy stumps! We have a guest."

A tousled blonde head peeked out of the second room, Fíli's bleary eyes sweeping the table before alighting on Khayl, who waved slightly, keeping a cautious eye on Dís as she moved about the kitchen with a sturdy looking pan.

"Khayl," Fíli said, as though not quite comprehending what he was seeing. There was silence in the other room before hurried footsteps followed and Kíli tripped out of his room, slamming into the wall opposite in his haste.

"Khayl!" He cried before rushing towards her clad in nothing but a pair of soft woollen night pants. Kíli grabbed Khayl in a fierce hug that was painfully reminiscent of his mother's.

"Morning Kíli," Khayl managed to get out as she was released. The brunet smiled in response.

"Kíli!" Dís snapped, whirling around with a kitchen knife in her hands. "Clothes! This instant! What were you thinking parading around in front of a nice young lass undressed, you brute? Have I truly failed so miserably!?"

"It's quite alright," Khayl tried to say, half-hoping that Fíli would come and hug her whist bare-chested also, but it was not to be. Kíli had already taken one look at the knife in his mother's hand and the furious expression on her face and had bolted back to his room, Fíli having vanished long before that point. Thorin crossed his arms and kept his gaze on his plate, staying well out of it all.

"It most certainly is not!" Dís snapped, waving her knife in Khayl's direction, causing her to shy away. She turned back to the stove and continued to snarl to herself. "Over seventy years of age and he still acts the fool."

"Dís," Thorin said quietly and when the dwarrowmatron turned Khayl was startled to see that she had a film of tears in her eyes. Dís caught Khayl staring, though she tried to hide it, and the older female smiled wanly.

"He is much too like his father. Sweet natured, and certainly infuriating at times, but I would not change him for the world," she said in lieu of explanation.

"He's too stubborn to change anyway," Fíli remarked with a smile as he strolled out of his room, dressed in a pair of loose pants and a tunic that hung off his figure in all the right ways. It was perfectly roguish with the right amount of propriety so that the Lady Dís couldn't say a word about it. Khayl rose up to meet him, folding into his embrace like they had been together for a hundred years rather than a few days.

"Good morning," he murmured and she smiled in response. Thorin's words from earlier rang in her mind, how he had spoken of the two of them like they were already married or something… somehow when they were together like this that thought was actually more pleasant than startling. Khayl promised herself to stop fighting what was going on, regardless. She'd had enough of fighting to last a lifetime and then some.

"Alright everyone, sit!" Dís commanded, throwing five plates on the table followed by the cutlery. Fíli sat down next to her and Kíli slouched into the chair on the other side of the table, grinning at Khayl again as he was now mostly dressed, though in the same hasty fashion as his brother.

"We were worried about you," Fíli murmured in her ear as Dís set a hearty breakfast of warm bread rolls, butter, sausages, eggs and bacon with a mug full of coffee each. Khayl sniffed appreciatively before responding to Fíli.

"So I've heard. Your mother made that very clear to me the moment I stepped in the door," Khayl said quietly with a fond smile to show that their attentions were appreciated. "I've been worried about you two as well."

"Yes, but we didn't just up and _disappear. _If not for a few people saying they've seen you about town, there would have been a full scale panic by now," Fíli poked moodily at a piece of sausage. He stared down Khayl sternly from the corner of his eye before slipping into 'lecture' mode. "What happened was terrible and everyone's feeling the repercussions, but you can't do that anymore. You're not alone here; people are _care _about you, and we'll help you. But you have to let us."

His voice was low, intending to keep the words simply between the two of them, but it was a small kitchen and there was precious little for the others to talk about so sound travelled. Quite a bit. Fíli and Khayl were wrapped up in their own little world in that moment and therefore didn't see the long look exchanged by Thorin and Dís as Thorin silently berated his sister for not duly informing her son about what was happening. Nor did they see Kíli mime smacking his forehead into the table.

"I know. I shouldn't have run off, it was pathetic, and cowardly," Khayl gritted her teeth as she bit out the words, mashing her fork into the runny yolk of her egg and smearing the yellow goo over her sausages. "But I just – I couldn't _face them." _

"Aro accepted you into his family," Fíli reminded her gently. "They are _your _family now. You have nothing to hide from them."

"I know – Heck, I _know. _But I – I need time, time to come to grips on my own terms," Khayl shovelled a piece of sausage into her mouth, quickly followed by a piece of soft, butter bun, forestalling all conversation. Fíli sighed, grumbled under his breath and began attacking his own breakfast, frustrated beyond belief.

Mahal! He wanted to be open with her, to tell her what was truly on his mind and in his heart, but Fíli knew he would be breaking about a thousand rules of propriety in doing so. He wanted to tell her that she was part of _their _family too now, that she had nothing to hide from _them, _from _him. _But he couldn't. She wasn't his, not really, and such things just aren't done. If they were courting, sure, it would be fine, but they weren't. Now that Aro was… dead, they had to wait until Argo was stepped up into the role of family head…

"You don't have to go back until you're ready, Khayl," Dís said, shooting a warning glance at her brother as though to say 'try and stop me' but Thorin surreptitiously shook his head in response. He agreed with what she was about to say, no matter how it just wasn't _done _within their society. "You have a place in our home, for as long as you wish it."

Fíli sighed in relief as Khayl stared at his mother, utterly flabbergasted. _He _could never make an offer such as that, but his mother certainly could. Khayl would be safe in their home, surrounded by familiar faces that she trusted and adored. And if his heart was singing a little brighter in response this most wondrous offer, well, no one had to know.

"That's very kind of you Dís," Khayl replied with a soft smile, wording her sentence carefully. "I would very much like to stay in your home for the time being. I am very grateful."

Dís smiled beautifully, her entire face lighting up. It was a trait her entire family seemed to share also as Kíli grinned broadly and whooped, and Fíli turned a small, secret smile upon her. Khayl shot a glance at Thorin at the end of the table and he inclined his head ever so slightly, eyes twinkling. Khayl's heart leapt; from him that was as good as a rousing cheer.

The red-head's chest felt lighter, like an immense weight had been lifted from it. These four wonderful people, this family that had known so much pain and loss was trying to prove to her that she was worthy, that she did belong among their people. She hadn't realised how alone she had truly been feeling until she was once again surrounded on all sides, Fíli's hand tenderly laced with hers beneath the rough hewn table.

Now Khayl just had to survive two days. Two days until the funeral. If she lasted that long then surely she would be well on her way to healing.

Fíli's words rang in her mind '_You're not alone here; people are care about you, and we'll help you. But you have to let us help.' _

_I am not alone, _Khayl repeated stubbornly in her head. _I've lost everything once and some idiot out there in the cosmos thought it was a good idea to give me a second chance, even if it was only to make me suffer. I am not going to let this destroy me. I am better than this. Pain hurts, but ultimately it makes us stronger. I am not alone. _

**~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~**

Aro's funeral was … immense. That was the only way to describe it.

Of all the lives that had been lost in recent times, he was the only noble. Khayl hadn't even known Aro was a noble, but apparently he was, as well as having been head of a noble family and a damn fine dwarf to boot. That was why _everyone _turned out to see him laid to rest.

It was an impressive gathering, bordering on ridiculous. Pangs rose in Khayl's chest as she looked at the crowds that had gathered to see their fallen friend laid to rest. So many people had loved and adored Aro, and now he was gone. Waves of guilt rocked through her gut and she felt a burden atop her head the likes of which she had never known. It sounded ridiculous, but she felt like she had failed all of these people, like she had accidentally deprived them of something wonderful.

Khayl brusquely brushed away the water that gathered around the rims of her eyes, glaring at the black-grey sky as rain pummelled down upon the myriad of uncloaked figures, all of the dwarves turned out in their finery to farewell their friend, their kinsman. It was like even the earth was mourning.

Thorin's sonorous words cut through the pounding of the rain, him having been delegated the task of performing the funeral rites by some reedy-voiced old noble who one wouldn't have been able to hear over a sneeze let alone a torrential downpour. Argo was beside the exiled king, his first act as head of their family being to entomb his brother.

Several steps in front of Khayl, Ira was curled into her mother, her heavy tirade of tears blending seamlessly with the rainwater that poured from the sky. Mila was silent and relatively still as she clutched her eldest to her side, though her shoulder's hitched occasionally as she withheld her sobs. Her other hand was pressing Fargo into the front of her sodden skirts.

Irisa was about a foot and a half to the left of her family, exactly where she would have been standing if her father was there beside them. The gap pained Khayl, pained her to the point where she was seeing white flashes across her eyes and creeping blackness in the very corners of her vision. Then she realised she was actually holding her breath, for what reason she wasn't sure, and that if she didn't release it soon and get some oxygen back into her system she was going to pass out in the middle of the proceedings.

Khayl exhaled in an enormous rush of air, sudden relief assaulting her chest. Before the dwarrowdam knew what she was doing she took a step forward.

The female inhaled sharply, clarity returning to her vision and her mind. Her new family seemed that much closer already. She took another step, this one smaller than the last.

Khayl continued to exhale and inhale calmly and methodically, taking a step with each breath in and out, though her steps grew progressively shorter as she went until she was scarcely shuffling along. There was a sudden coldness and emptiness at her back as Khayl inched away from Dís and her sons, but she forced herself to ignore it and keep moving forward. If she so much as glanced back now she would come undone.

Before she realised it Khayl had moved all of the several paces that had separated the families, and then she was standing right behind Irisa, the young girl not having heard her approach over the sound of the rain.

Khayl dropped to her knees abruptly behind the child, taking a deep breath before leaning in and whispering in her ear, not paying a mind to the mud that was soaking through her clothing.

"Just breathe, little one. You are not alone. Breathe."

_Very original Khayl, _the dwarrowdam grimaced at herself, but the words seemed to have an effect on Irisa. Or maybe it was Khayl's presence rather than the words themselves. Either way, some of the tension released from the young child's shoulders.

"I thought you left us," Irisa whimpered, Khayl barely catching the words over the sound of the rain. A sudden wave of disgust, wholly directed at herself, washed through her. How could she cause even more pain to this poor, sweet child?

"No," Khayl said softly, her lips in Irisa's limp, wet hair. She reached her arms forward and gently tugged the child back until her body was leaning against Khayl's own. "I am right here little one. I promise."

Irisa relaxed even further, leaning into the embrace. The two continued to watch the proceedings in silence before Irisa turned her head ever so slightly towards Khayl.

"Promise you won't ever leave?" She begged and Khayl felt the sting of tears in her eyes, knowing that there was no way she could ever promise that.

"Everyone has to leave us eventually, little one," Khayl murmured against her hair, the words like cotton dipped in acid within her mouth.

"Just –" Irisa made a small sound suspiciously like she had just bitten her tongue to stop herself from speaking.

"What is it?" Khayl asked, balancing her jaw on Irisa's thin shoulder. She felt the girl shudder as she exhaled sharply.

"Just promise you won't ever leave without saying goodbye!" She blurted out and Khayl was thankful for the rain otherwise _everyone _would have heard.

Khayl mulled over the words for a moment, surmising that Aro had probably surged out of the house in the wee hours of the night, clad in armour and wielding his blade without hesitation for a moment to say goodbye to his children. How does a parent explain to their children that they might not ever come back? Probably the same way it was explained to them that Aro _was _never coming back, not that Khayl would know because she hadn't _been there _at the time!

"I promise, Irisa. I will never leave you without first properly saying goodbye," It was a hazy promise at best, since Khayl would be going on the quest with Thorin and the rest to the Mountain which lay half a world away. The chance that she would die was rather formidable, and Khayl would have to hope that saying goodbye before she left on the quest would be enough otherwise she would die an Oath-breaker, not something she really wanted tagged to her name, even if she _was _dead.

"Good," Irisa said sternly. "That's good."

There was more silence between them as they continued to watch the funeral rites. But then the ceremony fully concluded and Irisa immediately turned within Khayl's arms, wrapping her own thin limbs around the dwarrowdams neck and hugging her fiercely.

"I love you, Khayl. You're the most bad-ass sister ever."

Khayl nearly choked on air before making a mental note to pummel Kíli into the ground the next time she saw him. Khayl knew it was a bad idea to teach the brunetsome of her 'modern' curses, expletives and other interesting phrases.

"Thank you. But don't use the phrase 'bad-ass' again until your about seventy."

"You're no fun," Irisa pouted and stuck her tongue out, and Khayl smiled, glad that some of that deep, dark tension that seemed to coil within them all had at least been slightly alleviated within the exuberant youngster.

_Yes_, Khayl decided, _now I can heal. _

**~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ **

**Author's Note: Whew, sorry for the long delay. My neighbour had me doing some chalk work in preparation for their son's wedding, then I recently got two commissions for portraits due **_**before **_**Christmas (still working on these, so still slow! Sorry!) and then I was reading a story and when I start reading a story that already has multiple chapters posted I **_**must **_**read through to the end. So a hundred and eighty odd chapters later and onto the sequel, I'm up to date on that one. I've just missed about a hundred other story updates recently…**

**Oh well, I hope you are all having a wonderful time with Christmas on the way! I am seriously enjoying my massively extended 'year eleven' holidays. We got out of school so early… its awesome. Anybody doing anything exciting for Christmas? I have to wait till Boxing Day to go see BOTFA *weeps* I haven't heard anything about it yet! Reports? I mean seriously, only Argentina has to wait longer than Australia! We're in the last five countries in the **_**world **_**to get to see it. WTF? –Rant Over- **

**Thanks once again for all of the utterly wonderful reviews (12! EeeK!) I hope to hear from you again with regards to this chapter! *wink wink nudge nudge***


	33. Chapter 33 The Road Before Us

**Through Their Eyes**

**Chapter 33: The Road Before Us**

**Author's note: Thank you as ever for the amazing response last chapter! I have been drowning underneath my portrait commissions but have thankfully finished and must admit that they are they finest I have ever done. I would thank you guys for that too, but that was all me *smiles smugly.***

**So, a most sincere thanks to fayoregoddessofcourage, CrazyFanGirl18, Dalonega Noquisi, luvgirl101, PurpleFairy11, Luthien Faye, MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever and REDRydingHood. Without you this story would be nothing. You are the soul, I am merely the conduit. **

**Be sure to let me know what you think of this chapter! (the longest I have written to date! C'mon, that deserves a little attention, doesn't it?)**

**~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~**

After the funeral Khayl was back in her own bed in Mila's house during the quiet nights, sleeping restlessly in the room she shared with Irisa and Ira both of whom woke intermittently throughout the night with soft cries and silent, form-shaking sobs. Khayl did what she could to comfort them, often sitting up into the longest hours of the night, all three females huddled in Ira's bed, the younger ones curled up against Khayl as she gently stroked their hair and sung quiet lullabies.

It became a recurring theme for little Fargo to slip out of his and his uncle's shared room and joined them in them before slipping away again in the wee hours of the morning before anyone woke. The young dwarf was trying so hard to be so very strong, for himself and the rest of his family.

Mila silently adjusted to a life spent sleeping alone. Normally she would have to wake well before dawn to prepare breakfast for Aro before he headed out to the forge, but now those quiet hours of the morning were empty. Mila, so attuned to habit she had honed over the decades, continued to do the same as she always had, though now she sat alone and still with nothing to do and no one to care for. The moment Khayl had learned this she had dragged herself out of bed before even Mila arose and prepared breakfast for the two of them. They sat in companionable silence until the remainder of the house began to stir.

Argo had thrown himself back into his work with a fervour that was utterly unrivalled. He began running on his own timeframe, rising whenever it suited him and continuing until he could no longer lift has hammer. He spoke to no one, not even Khayl. The ceremony that gave him his place at the head of the family had been quiet and full of pain.

Indeed, the dynamics of the household were completely skewed and all of them were exhausted, mentally, emotionally and physically.

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

It was a week and a half after the funeral when Khayl found herself striding down to the forge for the first time since before the fete. The still morning air had been ringing with hammer blows since well before dawn and Khayl was well and truly and sick and tired of it. The dwarrowdam was certain that Argo hadn't even eaten in days.

"Argo!" she called loudly as she entered the forge, trying to alert him to her presence. There was no response, the hammer continuing to pound away, the awful ring of metal striking metal screeching in her ears. This sounded nothing like the graceful forging that had been passed down through the generations since Mahal had first created his race of craftsmen; this was harsh, irregular and grating_. _

Argo stood beside the furthest anvil, bare-chested, slathered in sweat, his hair a mess of half-undone and non-existent braids. A pair of tongs were clutched in his left had and his right continued to rise and fall with the head of the hammer falling against the bare face of the anvil.

"Argo!" she called again, knowing he could in fact hear her. A fact that was confirmed when her mentor's shining eyes flicked towards her fleetingly before his disconcerting stare returned to focus on the anvil in front of him.

Khayl was filled with anger. Not at him, and not at herself but at _something. _She wasn't at all sure what she was angry about; she was just filled with a rage that didn't really have anything to do with anything.

Khayl stormed forward and reached for his hammer-wielding hand as it swung down towards the anvil once again. She caught him by the wrist and was surprised by the ease with which she managed to manoeuvre his hand, stopping the blow and drawing his arm away from the anvil altogether. The hammer slipped from his numb fingers and crashed to the floor, narrowly missing crushing Khayl's foot. The tongs in his other hand followed suit, making an awful racket as they slipped of the anvil and splayed across the floor.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Argo turned his tortured gaze upon Khayl, looking her up and down as though she was the first thing he had seen, truly _seen _for days. Perhaps she was.

"Khayl," he murmured before reaching up and touching her cheek with the knuckles of the hand that had so forcefully wielded the hammer. Khayl took his rough, strong hand in her own and gently turned in over, stroking a tender finger across the burst and bleeding blister, his palms and fingers utterly red-raw.

"Argo… come back to us," Khayl took his hand and gently laid the back of it over her heart so that he could still feel the life pounding in her veins. "Please, we need you."

"Khayl," he muttered again, closing his eyes and retracting his hand. He stood still and silent for several long moments before absently scratching at his frazzled beard. Khayl gave him a small vastitude of privacy in that moment as he tried to gather himself, looking around at the forge.

"The forge is dead," Khayl remarked quietly before the words even made it anywhere towards her brain.

"It died the day he did," Argo grunted in response and Khayl looked back at him sharply before softening her gaze.

Of course it had. Aro would have tended the forge before they left for the fete that evening, then again once he returned home. After that, with all that happened, he would have never have had the opportunity to do so again and tending the forge had always been Aro's self-appointed task since it was, after all, his forge. She could only imagine how painful the thought of taking over his duty would have been for Argo. She could only imagine how easy it would have been for him to just let it die down and for the heat to fade away… Khayl herself hadn't even been able to bring herself down the forge at all.

"I'm sorry Khayl," Argo said quietly, his voice grating like an old rasp.

"For what?"

"I should have been there!" He snarled suddenly whirling and lashing out, a stack steel rods scattering across the floor with a horrible sound. "You should never have had to go through all of that!"

Khayl reached out and grabbed her mentor by the bicep before he lashed out at something a fair bit sharper than a rod and took his hand off.

"Argo stop!" she cried, tugging him around so that he faced her. "You can't change what happened! Neither you, nor I nor anyone else could have foreseen what happened, and not one of us could have changed it! We all wish we could, but we CAN'T!"

Tempers flared abruptly and suddenly a very angry young dwarrowdam was snarling at a very angry old warrior.

"My _brother _gave his life for you and that _boy _of yours! If that Durin brat had of been more careful he would still be alive!" Argo snapped, his eyes dark and murderous.

"It's not his fault!" Khayl roared in reply, feeling something powerful and full of fire and anger well up inside of her as Argo tried to lay blame at Fíli's feet.

"It was his mistake that cost us _all!" _Argo's voice was like thunder, overwhelming everything. With his next words Argo sounded more furious than ever.. "He will _never _have my permission!"

"Your permission?" Khayl felt her brow crinkle in confusion. Some of the fire in her chest quelled, but only a little. "Why would he need your permission?"

"For your _hand _girl!" He snarled. Khayl stared at him uncomprehendingly before it all came ramming home.

_Fíli _had asked _Argo _for _her _hand in marriage. Khayl didn't know whether to be thrilled or terrified. Her decision making skills weren't helped by the fact that she was well and truly furious, angry beyond comprehension at this point.

"I don't need your blessing anyway! You are _not _my father!" she screamed at him, whirling and storming out of the forge but not before she saw a flash of pain in Argo's eyes.

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

Khayl's steps were heavy and full of purpose as she stormed towards town, not even making the conscious decision to go to Fíli at his home, but that's were her path led her anyway.

People stared as she stomped by, her teeth gritted, angry green eyes flashing. But she paid no mind, not even aware of the fact that she was wearing; her heaviest pair of iron-shod boots, an absolutely filthy pair of pants that she favoured for riding made of wool and leather, fastened at the with a drawstring, no belt. Her shirt was originally blue, but was now so worn and faded that it was a light grey, the sleeves rolled to midway up her biceps. It was what she wore when she was remaining at home, or working her horses.

It was in no way a suitable outfit for a dwarrowdam to be wearing whilst out and about. It didn't help that she was smeared from top to toe in dirt, her earlier spill from Ares having helped to nurture her disgusting mood. Her hair had come loose from every braid she normally wore when Ares had kindly introduced her to that low-hanging tree branch, the fiery strands now flying out behind her as she stormed through the quiet streets.

She reached the door of the Durin residence and pounded on the door in the most polite manner her mood would permit. The door was pulled open a moment later by a perplexed looking Kíli who immediately smiled upon seeing her.

"Khayl! Come in. Mila said you weren't going to be able to make it?" he asked questioningly whilst Khayl slid around him and inside the door.

"Yeah, then I had a mishap with Ares," she lifted the very bottom of her shirt and showed him the colourful bruise that was forming across her stomach. Kíli whistled lowly in appreciation, long having gotten used to Khayl's lack of... propriety. "is Fíli here?"

Kíli looked bewildered at the abrupt question but nodded regardless. "Yeah, he's in the main room with everyone else." He trailed off as he realised that Khayl was already gone. He grumbled to himself before following at a much more sedate pace.

"Fíli!" he heard her call as she walked into the room. Kíli rolled his eyes, wondering what on earth his brother had done to make the dwarrowdam angry this time. He stepped just inside the room and bit back a chuckle as every member of his family as well as Mila and her children stared at Khayl with almost identical expressions of confusion. Thorin had paused seemingly torn between smoking his pipe and scratching his chin.

Fíli had half risen in greeting Khayl but was now staring at her within bewilderment and a little bit of wariness clear in his eyes. Fíli glanced at his brother who shrugged to show that he was equally confused.

"Hi..?"

"What did Argo say to you?" she asked –demanded.

"Er… about what?"

"When you asked his permission!" Khayl exclaimed. Fíli's eyes widened as comprehension hit him and his hand shot to one of his pockets. He wasn't the only one who at last understood what was going on. Thorin choked on air, pipe long since forgotten, and Mila was frozen in place, looking torn between laughing and berating someone.

"Fíli!" Dís cried. "When did you-?"

"Finally!" Kíli crowed as Ira punched her fists in the air and shouted 'I knew it!' in a very un-ladylike way.

Fíli, on the other hand, was still rather confused. "Khayl, I – I haven't asked Argo."

"_What?" _

You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed. Fíli's cheeks pinked considerably, making him look rather adorable with all of that golden hair. He cleared his throat before speaking again.

"I haven't asked permission from Argo to court you yet," he said slowly and steadily, so that there could be no mistake. Khayl didn't miss the very definite way he said _yet. _

Khayl bit the inside of her cheek, the fire still kindled in her chest as she thought carefully over her next words.

"Then why would he assume? Anything could happen between now and whenever you chose to ask," She said, absently tugging a loose strand of hair.

"Doesn't change the fact that it was going to happen eventually," Thorin grumbled in the background, loud enough so that everyone could hear. Everyone stared at him where he lounged in his favourite chair by the open window. He sighed and went back to quietly chuffing on his pipe.

"Okay," Fíli began with a challenging note in his voice, he folded his arms and put on his sternest face, unintentionally mimicking the auburn-haired dwarrowdam who stood just behind and to the side of him. "Why does everyone just _assume _that I'm going to ask for Khayl's courtship? I mean, its not just the type of thing that one _assumes." _

There was silence again and a few awkwardly shuffled feet from the older dwarves in the room whilst Mila's youngest two looked on in near bewilderment.

"Someone tell them already," Thorin muttered. "I can see the lass' brain about to explode."

Khayl glowered, knowing he was repaying her in kind for making him feel awfully uncomfortable about her remarks about a shirtless Kíli not so long ago.

"Why don't you tell them if it's such a bother to you, _your majesty?" _Dís snapped half-heartedly, kicking the stool out from under his resting feet. Khayl blinked as she realised that they were about to enter into one of those enormous arguments their family was prone to. Nobody argues liked a dwarf family. Fortunately, Kíli jumped in before it came to that.

"Alright! Mahal!" He exclaims, throwing a hand up to his forehead in exasperation. He turned towards Fíli and Khayl before continuing on slowly and clearly. "You two are _made _for each other."

"How so?" Khayl snorted, not seeing the way that Fíli's complexion paled considerably. Khayl, being an outsider, originally human, had no idea of the concept of a 'One.' Fíli had heard of it, but never considered the possibility given the rarity of such an event.

"I- I didn't know," Fíli stammered, looking utterly caught off ground. "I never even considered. Didn't even think-"

"Stop!" Khayl exclaimed. "Someone just give it to me plain and straight since clearly I am the only person who has no idea what on earth is going on!"

Mila stepped forward. "Every dwarf has a One in the world, a One True Love. Whether they find them or not is another matter entirely."

"A soul mate?" Khayl raised her eyebrows. "For real?"

All she received in response were solemn nods from all around the room. She turned to Fíli who was looking at her in a whole other light, as though she were some great and glorious goddess fallen down from the heavens above.

"So how does that explain me wanting to murder you constantly?" she asked.

"It's the constant attraction," Kíli chimed in helpfully with a broad grin. "You didn't really hate him. You just hated that your thoughts were constantly drawn to him and that he made things happen to you that you didn't understand."

Khayl nodded, conceding that point to the brunet. Then she pauses mid-nod as another thought hit her.

"And how do _you _know?" she rounded on Kíli. "How come everyone knew but us?"

"Fíli knew," Kíli laughed. "He was just too thick-headed and too blind to see it. But I'm never going to mention how I found out. Mum would probably skin me alive."

"I'm standing _right here _Kíli," The dwarrowmatron warned.

"_Anyway," _Kíli shot a glance at Ira who turned her gaze away, stubbornly not looking at him. Khayl frowned. "I told Ira because… well, because. Other than that I think just about every adult in Ered Luin knows."

"_What!?" _

"It's kinda obvious," Ira bit her lip to hold back a laugh. She accidentally caught Kíli's eye before she rapidly turned away again.

"But why did none of you say anything?" Fíli asked, at last returning to the real world – though Khayl still had her doubts on this point sometimes.

Dís turned her glare on Thorin who levelled a blue a fierce on right back at her. He'd reclaimed his footstool at some point and was once again lounging casually.

"I couldn't bring myself to," Dís said softly shooting an apologetic look towards the two young dwarrow. "It reminded me too much of the boy's father and what we had."

Her eyes misted with tears much the same as they had the last time she had spoken of Fildur in Khayl's presence. Fíli moved rapidly across the room and touched her elbow, bringing her back to them. She reached up with one hand and stroked a knuckle across his well defined jaw.

"Don't ever lose her," she told him sternly, in a quiet tone that was meant only for the two of them but heard by all. "It will destroy you no matter how strong you are."

"Aye _Amad." _[mother] Fíli replied equally queit. "I won't ever let her go."

He turned the smallest, most sincere smile upon Khayl, who grinned timidly in return, still not altogether sure what to make of this 'soul mates' business. It made a lot of things suddenly make sense though, and it definitely wasn't dread that curled in the curled in the pit of her stomach.

Khayl glanced towards Thorin who met her eye steadily. She remembered the promise she had made him, to go on the quest and keep Fíli safe when no one else could.

"_he is too reckless, too loyal… this needs to tempered with logical thinking and an iron will…" _

Thorin's words hadn't only been referring to the quest, she saw now. He had been speaking of life as a whole. He knew they were … bonded –for want of a better word – and that there was no denying or defying it.

"So what does this mean?" Khayl asked curiously. She thought she had a good idea, but it didn't help to be sure.

"It means that I will always love you, no matter what happens," Fíli said solidly, throwing his head and shoulders back and look every bit the proud prince.

Khayl felt an enormous, dopey grin loop across her features. He said he loved her, in front of both their families. Well everyone except for…

"What about Argo?" Khayl asked, a sliver of sorrow in her heart. "He said that he would never give his permission?"

"You don't need it," Mila said. "You are bonded by Mahal himself, there is no denying it. Typically when two who are paired meet and accept what they have they begin courting straight away. Well, when the lad produces a courting gift and the lass reciprocates to say that she accepts."

Fíli's cheeks pinked once again, laughing awkwardly and scratching behind his ear. He reached into his pocket once again, this time removing something small and clutching it in the palm of his hand.

"I was going to come see you tomorrow morning," he said awkwardly. "I expected to dealing with Argo to cure me of my nerves and then not have to speak to you in front of _everybody."_

Fíli shot an accusing look around the room at all of its inhabitants as though it was utterly their fault before clearing his throat uncomfortably once again. Khayl's heart pounded furiously in her chest.

"Khayl… would you permit you to bestow a courting gift upon you?"

There was a beat of silence before Kíli moved and rapidly kicked his elder brother in the back of the knee, dropping him into a kneeling position. There was another awkward moment and then Khayl laughed.

"Of course!" and she reached and helped Fíli to his feet, the blonde grinning every bit as stupidly as she was. Fíli stood before her, closer than he ever would have done before. He opened his palm and showed her the precious treasure that lay there.

"I know I'm not supposed to make a ring, but you rarely wear jewellery because you rant and rave that it catches on everything a 'provides a hazard' and hair clasps break or slide out and get lost so-"

"Especially when her horse wipes her out on a tree haha!" Kíli cackled cause everyone to stare at him like he'd just lost his freaking marbles. "Anyway – continue."

Fíli just sighed and held out the ring to her, allowing Khayl to take it up and eye the finely crafted golden band. It was simple, not too elaborate but sturdy. The band curved back into a v-shape with a single, flat diamond set at its base. The rest of the wings of the V were etched with tiny geometric dwarven designs before smoothing into the plain band that would trace beneath her finger. It glittered like the most perfect jewel as the light caught on it.

"It's … its…" she sighed before glancing it his eyes with a shy smile. "There are quite literally no words."

Fíli grinned and reached out and took her hand and the ring, sliding it onto her central finger on her hand, right beside the one intended to carry a wedding ring. When he had finished the two merely stood quietly, him still holding her hand.

"Khayl?" Kíli began, automatically causing everyone to glare at him. He shrugged it off in that nonchalant way of his. "Remember when I said you were like a sister to me?"

"Kíli…" several people warned.

"Yes…" Khayl replied cautiously.

"Now you pretty much are!" he exclaimed before hugging Khayl so fiercely that he actually lifted her off the ground. He set the dwarrowdam on her feet when she began gasping for air, getting a furious look from his brother and an exasperated one from his mother.

"What are you going to make for a courting gift?" Ira asked Khayl abruptly, whether to stop the room from falling into a horribly awkward silence or to protect the brunet from getting throttled by Fíli, one couldn't be sure.

"Uh…"

Dís smiled and Mila raised her eyes heavenward.

"Kitchen," they said in unison and Khayl trailed helplessly after the dwarrowmatrons, shooting a pleading look towards the male inhabitants of the room as Irisa and Ira followed eagerly. Fíli merely shrugged in a 'sorry can't help' kind of way, whilst Kíli waved goodbye and Thorin continued drag on his pipe and stare out the window, watching his people move by in their day-to-day lives.

"Alright," Dís began, seating herself and Khayl in adjoining chairs whilst Mila and her girls hovered beside them both. "What were you thinking of making?"

"The only 'making' I do of any standard is forging and somehow I don't think that's going to cut it," Khayl responded, having a nagging suspicion that her courting gift was going to be awful in comparison to Fíli's wondrous gift which sat upon her finger, the metal warm to touch.

"No, its won't," Dís replied, her voice stern but gentle at the same time, something only a mother seemed capable of pulling off. "A dwarf crafts something. A dwarrowdam _makes _something."

"No offence, but that doesn't help at all," Khayl raised a brow. "Crafting is a skill, making something is creating something which generally requires a skill. So aren't they the same?"

"A dwarf creates something to show to his beloved that she is the most beautiful treasure and that he would provide her with the world if he could, to show their love as everlasting," Mila provided, her eyes half cast into the past. "So he makes something that will endure like a carving, a piece of jewellery or a set of knives for the dam's kitchen. Aro built me our house, though it was smaller to begin with."

She said it so casually, so easily, like it was nothing. But Khayl could feel the pain and tension rolling of Mila in veritable waves. But she said nothing. Mila didn't want her pity, or to know that the world could see through her guise.

"Exactly. Fildur and I were living in exile with the rest of our people when we began courting. We were very young, like you and Fíli," Dís said and this time there was no sheen of tears in her eyes as she mentioned her late husband. "He crafted me a blade, enlisting Thorin's help with some of it. It's made of iron, which was all that we had to work in those days."

"And so as a female, what do I have to make?" Khayl asked, feeling more than a little overwhelmed.

"Something to do with hearth and home," Mila said with a shrug. "I made a smithing apron."

"I made Fildur a fine tunic in my family's colours," Dís sighed a little wistfully. "He wore it to our wedding."

"Tunics and aprons?" Khayl felt her brows rising up her forehead. "That's it?"

"Glinna, Gloin's wife, made him an enormous barrel of ale," Mila supplied and Khayl groaned, allowing her head to drop onto the table with a 'thunk.'

_Well, _Khayl thought. _This isn't going to be fun. At all. _

**~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~**

**Author's Note: Whew. A monster of a chapter. 15 pages. I seriously hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you thought!**

**So, in this chapter we saw cranky Argo, cranky Khayl, Fíli being all adorable, Kíli … being Kíli and whatever the heck is going on between him and Ira. I want to know what you guys think Khayl should craft as her courting present! So let me know!**

**Now on a more so sombre note, I doubt I'm going to be able to update again before Christmas and BOTFA, so merry Christmas and wish me luck! To those of you who don't celebrate Christmas I wish you fine fortune and good health!**

**(p.s. when I have finished this arc and we reach the beginning of the quest I will be going back and giving this first part of the story a bit of a tune up. I've already begun.)**


	34. Chapter 34 Reckoning

**Chapter 34: Reckoning**

**Authors Note: Such a freaking fantastic response to last chapter! 14 reviews! *takes deep breath* A major thankyou to CrazyFanGirl18, Dalonega Noquisi, PurpleFairy11, luvgirl101, Whitwhit1893, mk72, Katie Loom, bloodyrose1294, Guest annie, MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever, Prost, KeepingThemAtBay, Anju R and Katherine Sparrow!**

**Anyway, I know I said I probably wasn't going to post until I'd so BOTFA so...**

**Yup, I still haven't seen it. Got dragged down south by my brother the **_**exact day **_**that I was going to go see it… *weeps* And I live in the middle of freaking nowhere so I can't just catch a bus or wander down to the cinema. So that's why I haven't updated. But hey, in recompense you guys get another long chapter! Woohoo!**

**annie: That would be so cool, but I seriously couldn't think of anything :( Thanks for the suggestion though!**

**~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~**

"What did you do?" Thorin barked, striding into the forge and looking every bit the king that he was. He paused for a moment when he realised that the master smith was nowhere in sight.

"Something foolish," came Argo's rumbling voice, thick with indistinguishable emotion. Thorin glanced around, following the sound of his voice, not allowing his eyes to widen when he spotted his old friend curled in a dark corner, situated between the wall of the cold forge and a stone workbench. Thorin took two hesitant steps toward Argo before stopping, torn between reaching out to his friend in need and berating him for his idiotic actions.

Oh how he felt torn! Torn between a king's need for justice, and a dwarf's desire to support his friend. Not for the first time in his life Thorin Oakenshield wished to be nothing more than an ordinary dwarf. Then he would have been able to simply knock some sense into the smith.

So torn, did Thorin feel, that he was unable to anything more than stand awkwardly and stare at the huddled mass that had once been a fierce and proud warrior, impossibly brave and strong with unwavering loyalty. This husk of a dwarf - for looking at him like that he scarcely even seemed to be Argo any more - was none of those things. And that terrified the king-in-exile for he had been such a wraith himself once.

"Argo," his friend's name slipped from his lips unbidden, the tone longing and commanding at the same time. For a brief moment he hated himself for the pain that he allowed to slip into the two syllables but then Thorin reminded himself that Argo was in no state to really notice at that point in time. Perhaps what the smith really needed was to hear - to see - the pain that others held inside.

"You should have seen her face," Argo managed to choke out. He rolled his head to the side so that his dark eyes bored into Thorin's. One could see where tears had trailed down his filthy cheeks and into his ragged and unkempt beard. "She was so angry. But there was pain too; she was hurting. And I did that. _I _did that."

"Her anger is merely a mask for the pain," Thorin told his friend gently, coming and kneeling before him. "You and I both know how that feels."

"Aye, but it was me who hurt her!" he exclaimed in frustration and self-loathing. "I was never supposed to hurt her! I was supposed to protect her and teach her like-"

"Like a good father," Thorin finished when Argo struggled to find the words.

"Aye," Argo said again, though this time it sounded more like a pained exhale. "I've been meaning to tell her for so long… I asked Ar- I asked my brother to give her a place in our family if she wished it. But it was always to be her choice. I wanted to tell her that I viewed her as my own; at the time I was almost certain that she felt the same… Now I will never know."

Argo rested his forehead against his folded arms, pressing them into the knees that were very nearly touching his chest. He looked broken, both in heart and spirit. Thorin wondered how long it would be until the tough old warrior's mind went too. Loss did strange things to a dwarf, and the more you lost the more you spiralled out of control. There was only so much pain that one could take at a time. Thorin knew; he had been to the brink. If Argo lost Khayl now, he shuddered to think what it would do to him.

"There is still time," Thorin pressed. "She is not lost to you yet."

"She always was," Argo replied in a resigned tone. The sound of it made a chill pass through Thorin's heart. "I treated her as my own, cared for her and taught her everything. In recompense she just continues to cling to the humans that raised her and taught her nothing of her own people!"

The last few words were a vehement cry of frustration, built over time and at last brought to a head. Thorin recoiled before the meaning of the words even hit his ears, but when it did he rocked back onto his feet, stunned.

"Khayl was raised by humans?" he managed to gasp out, air not coming to him. He felt light-headed as the implications hit him thick and fast at the very same time that comprehension blossomed in his mind.

It made sense now as to why she knew nothing of their culture and did not understand propriety or custom among their people. If he thought on it for a moment Thorin found that he was actually slightly relieved. He had thought for a while that perhaps she had been born to an outcast or was not altogether _there._

The relief was short-lived though.

Khayl was to marry Fili, a prince. This meant that she would become a princess and, later, Queen of Durin's folk. Her ignorance of their culture could be an enormous pitfall and would no doubt raise speculation. And most were not as accepting as the dwarves of Ered Luin. Khayl's odd ways had not gone unnoticed among many dwarves within their small community, but she was protected by her reputation as a fighter and saviour of many lives, as well as her relationships with Aro, Argo and his own family. She would not be protected as such when all dwarven eyes looked to her for guidance. When she was expected to sit as a representative of their entire race.

Personally, Thorin had a peculiar feeling that Khayl hadn't even comprehended that fact that she would one day become queen. In Erebor, Mahal willing.

"I take it she's never mentioned it," Argo responded dryly.

"Indeed she has not," Thorin said tightly, his jaw clenching. He wondered what else he didn't know about the dwarrowdam and he wondered how much was intentionally kept a secret. His stomach clenched as he realised that he actually didn't really know anything about her, about her life before arriving in Ered Luin and he certainly knew nothing about her from the time before she met Argo. It was a startling realisation.

"I love the girl like my own, Thorin. Don't mistake me on that," Argo's voice was full of a kind of frustrated resignation. "But sometimes she just makes it so hard. How can I care so much about someone I don't know anything about?"

"I don't know Argo. There's just something odd about the lass," Thorin confided. "She's just different and I can't tell you why. But I will tell you this;"

Argo waited with furrowed brows as Thorin paused briefly for breath, thinking carefully over his words.

"You need to amend what happened with Khayl and fast. She is soon to become a part of _my_ family, making me responsible for her, not you. So if you don't fix it now, you'll make it that much more difficult for the both of you."

Argo said nothing, the real implications of Thorin's words coming to rest atop his shoulders like thousand pound weights. When a dwarrowdam marries she falls under the care and protection of her husband's house. Thorin's house. Khayl would no longer live in Mila's home with rest of them and if she continued to work she would likely take up employ in the town, near her new home. The realisation was like a chill wind on a sweat stained body for Argo. Sharp and chilling. It was a cold, sharp blade that cut to the crux of the matter and brought with it startling clarity.

"I will. I'll make amends," Argo promised. If he didn't swallow his pride and wayward emotions now, he may never have the opportunity to do so again. With the departure date for the quest to Erebor constantly drawing nearer day by day, he couldn't be sure if the lass would survive the journey or if he would even see her again if they _did _ manage to reclaim the mountain. Mila would not leave her husband's home to journey to the mountain and Argos could not leave his kin behind in the Blue Mountains now that he was the head of their family. Besides all of that, a journey of that length and scale would provide plenty of time for the emotional wounds inflicted to fester.

No, he had to fix things. And soon. It didn't matter how put out he was with her at the moment, they were kin now and the bad blood between them had to be eradicated.

"Thank you Thorin," Argo said, standing. The king followed suit and clasped arms with his old friend, though a quizzical look was upon his features.

"For what?" he asked and Argo smiled truly for the first time in a long time.

"For making this thick-headed old goat see sense," Argo stepped around the king and made his way to the door of the forge. Thorin scoffed, though he allowed himself a quick grin as soon as the smith's back was turned.

"I'm older than you are," he grumbled to himself before calling "Where are you going?"

"To keep my promise!" Argo replied over his shoulder, striding out of the forge and into the light of day, seeing clearly at last.

###

Khayl left the Durin household earlier than any of the others, leaving with a silly grin on her face and the tingle of a parting kiss upon her lips. Only Thorin had left before her, saying that he had some business to attend to. He had displayed a rare show of public affection before departing, grabbing his eldest nephew in a rough embrace before the two head-hunted sharply, eyeing each other in the aftermath to see who was more dazed -Khayl had thought it to be Thorin, but then she could have been bias. He had turned then to Khayl and a slight quirk of his lips betrayed his amusement when she glared warningly at him. Then he had pressed their foreheads together gently before leaving a whiskery kiss in the same place upon her flesh. The moment he had left, Kíli, who had been restraining himself the whole while, pounced upon the new, semi-official couple, Ira and her other siblings joining in on the group hug that collapsed to the floor.

Khayl had never felt so loved in her entire life, neither her human or her dwarf one. And for the first time when she thought of going back to her old life she was filled with dread rather than impatience. As she walked the streets of the dwarf town she felt at perfectly at peace. Looking up at the mountains the dwarves mined from she felt safe. Smiling at the folk she passed she felt accepted and appreciated. She felt like she belonged.

Fili's ring felt heavy and obvious upon her finger, though she knew it was not so. It was not the weight of the metal that bore her hand down to her side, rather the weight of the promise behind it. The promise that she would stay, that she would be loyal, that she would love and protect and that she would be loved and protected in return. Before, leaving Middle Earth had always been an option, the obvious decision. Now it was utterly out of the question. One afternoon had utterly stripped her of that choice and she would be lying if she didn't admit that she wasn't sad to see it go.

The promise of a ring was a promise of a life, and a home. A life with Fili…

Dazedly, Khayl wandered into Mila's house, absently noticing the silence that hung in the air outside. She walked into the sitting room and dropped to the floor, sprawling face first on the thick fur rug in the middle of the floor. Grinning gaily to herself now that no one could see, Khayl rolled onto her back and smiled at the ceiling, a sense of bliss welling within her.

After several moments she began to feel quite warm and sat up, awkwardly pulling her coat from her shoulders. The winter months had been quite mild for Ered Luin that year, supposedly, but Khayl had still found herself tossing her coat over her shoulders each time she went out not doing it up but keeping it over her shoulders, her intolerance of cold showing though the weather was reasonably fair. She tossed it over the arm of the lounge and admired that way they daylight that filtered through the windows played on the colours in the fur. It was the one Kíli had given her what seemed like an age ago now… so much had happened since then.

Ares, the fete, Fili, the orcs killing people, being taken prisoner, escaping, Aro, Argo… it all still seemed surreal somehow, like something that she had been witness to. Like it was a … movie.

Her mind conjured up images of lives and happenings that she had never been witnessed to. Great battles that had never actually occurred. Khayl couldn't quite remember what a 'movie' was but it seemed to involve moving pictures that told a story… however that was possible.

She shook her head as she lay back down on the rug. Ordinarily she embraced these memory flashes, as frustrating as they could be, and tried to see more - to remember. But now… that life was gone. She couldn't go back now and there was no sense clinging to it. What good would it do her to hold onto what she could scarcely remember? Perhaps the faster she forgot it all the faster she could get on with well and truly immersing herself in her new life, her new family.

Khayl felt a stray tear sneak out of the corner of her eye and roll down the side of her temple and into her hair as she brought to mind the blurry, almost meaningless faces of those she knew to be her family. The ones who had birthed her and raised her, the ones whose blood she shared and of whom she knew she had once possessed thousands of memories. All of that was now gone and would ever come back. She had to let go. For good.

Khayl let out a shuddering breath and felt another tear slip away from her control. She struggled with all her might to bring those faces into clarity one last time but the only one she could even slightly achieve was her brother. His hair, darker than hers because it was shorter, his eyes a light hazel, his face a more angular cut than her own. She felt her brows drift together as she focused with all of the power of her mind and her heart. His broad shoulders and roughish smile, a crooked grin much like her own that was almost impossible to fake.

Try, try, try as she might, his name slipped her grasp.

In frustration, Khayl pounded the floor with her fists like a horrible little child, biting her lip to stop herself from yelling out loud at her own failure. The she took a steadying breath and let his face slip from her mind for the last time. She replaced it with the laughing faces of Kíli, Ira, Irisa and Fargo, her new siblings. She had always been the youngest; now it was her turn to look after them.

"Are you alright?" a concerned voice broke through her reverie. Khayl would have laughed at the choice of words if she hadn't been so acutely aware of the deep, grating voice that held a tone of confidence and reassurance that she had thought to never hear again.

"Fine," She bit back, sitting up with green eyes flashing and brusquely swiping a hand across the last remnants of her tears. Argo was hovering in the doorway, clearly ill at ease. With interest, Khayl noted that he had washed, changed into crisp, clean clothes and had combed and braided his hair and beard for the first time since Aro's funeral.

"What were you thinking about?" he asked, and she wondered if he really wanted to know. And just because she knew it would spite him, Khayl told the truth.

"My family," She didn't say which family, though in actual fact it had been all of them, but she knew he would take it in the worst possible way. He had always resented how closely she had held her old family to her heart. Well, not early on, but back then she didn't think he could care less about the waif he had been saddled with being raised by humans.

Argo, predictably, took it to mean that she was pining over her lost family. She could see it in his features, particularly as his face went red before he tightened his expression and his pallor went back to normal. He was trying hard to restrain himself, Khayl observed.

"Khayl," he began halting, before clearing his throat several times. She allowed herself to frown at him slightly. He seemed to take this as some strange sort of encouragement and steeled himself.

"I want to apologise for what I said earlier," Khayl felt her brows crawling up towards her hairline, no matter how hard she tried to restrain them. Argo shifted on his feet and the dwarrowdam almost smiled at how uncomfortable he was. "I was wrong. I had no right to blame you or Fili for what happened, just as I have no right to keep my blessing from you. He is your One, I see it like everyone else. If he would come to me to ask for your courtship I will give him my permission and my most sincere blessing."

This time Khayl did smile and Argo looked at her in confusion, though he looked rather relieved that she wasn't screaming at him. Khayl held up her hand and he caught the most fleeting glint of gold.

"I appreciate it Argo, I do. Thank you. But you're a little late."

"What do you mean?" he asked in confusion, the dots slowly beginning to line up in his head. "He didn't-?"

"He did." Khayl grinned at him and Argo shook his head in exasperation. "I just have to work out a courting gift and then you get to start thinking of Fili as your future son-in-law. Of a sort."

Argo's eyes widened in shock at the statement. "Son-in-law!? You mean-?"

Once again Khayl smiled in response to one of Argo's strangled, half-sentences, climbing to her feet, saying 'aye' for the first time in her life and embracing the dwarf who fitted fairly well into the mould of 'surrogate father.'

"You've been like a father to me for a quite a while now Argo. It just wasn't my place to say anything. I thought that I might be overstepping my bounds," Argo wrapped his arms firmly around her back and crushed her against his chest. "It's good to have you back."

"I'm sorry-" he began only to be silenced when Khayl drew back and slapped an open fist into his broad chest.

"Argo? Shut up. I'm sorry, you're sorry; that's really all there is to it," Khayl chastised him firmly. "I've decided that my old life is in the past now and that I need to be let it go."

"If you ever want to talk about it-" he started to say but was cut off by her wavering smile

"There's not really a lot to say anymore," Khayl told him truthfully. "But thanks."

The two dwarves grinned at one another, content to set their pain to one side and to forgive and forget.

"Argo?" Khayl broke the silence that seemed in danger of dragging on and on. He glanced at her curiously. Khayl put on her 'sarcastic face.' "Thanks ever so much for explaining the concept of a 'One' to me."

"Some things you just can't teach Khayl," he responded rather enigmatically. Khayl rolled her eyes.

"Sure you can't. What do think Mila and Dís were teaching me earlier?"

###

Khayl repeatedly swallowed nervously and checked that the package under her arm was secure and well wrapped for about the tenth time in a few minutes. She wasn't even sure why she was nervous!

But nervous she was and the feeling continued to grow even as she stood the doorstep of Dis' home. Khayl shifted awkwardly before raising a hand and knocking on the door, a faint smile on her lips as she remembered the day she had pounced on it and burst inside the moment Kili swung it open.

This time though it was Fili who opened the door and she felt her heart sing in her chest at the mere sight of him. It had taken some time to get used to all the emotions that hurtled through her when she was near him, but gradually she was getting the hang of it.

"Hi," he said with a grin, opening the door and allowing her to step through before she said anything. He closed the door behind them and when he turned about she greeted him with a quick kiss to the lips. He moved to deepen it but she drew back quickly before either of them got even more distracted.

"I've got something for you," Khayl said before glancing down the hall. Ordinarily she would have been engulfed by Kíli or Dís or both by that point. Not that she was complaining but would be nice to know they weren't lingering around a corner listening to every word they said.

"They're out," Fili explained before long interestedly at the package under her arms. He took it as she offered it to him, smiling in thanks. "What is it?"

"That takes the fun out of opening it," Khayl grinned as she trailed after him to the sitting room, her anxiety dissipating. He sat on the lounge and she sunk down beside him, sitting so that their sides touched. Fili looked at her, considering her actions before grinning like a loon.

"This is your courting gift, isn't it?" he asked, a laugh escaping his lips.

"No," Khayl replied with a roll of her eyes. "I just enjoy throwing gifts at your feet on a daily basis."

She grinned at the blonde dwarf, her blonde dwarf, and he smiled before wrapping an arm around her waist and dragging her onto his lap, eliciting a sharp and rather embarrassing squeak from the dwarrowdam. She squirmed but he held fast and merely laughed at her feel struggles. Gifts exchanged, they were officially courting and no one could say a word about how they acted with each other, with the strict exception of not jumping the gun, so to speak.

"Are you going to open it or not?" Khayl teased and he tightened his grip on her with a roguish grin.

"My hands are full," he said, pinching her waist as though to prove his point. She bit back another squeak and slapped away the offending hand. "Open it for me?"

"After all the effort I went to and you don't even want to open your gift," she sighed with mock disappointment, only for her pointing lips to be grabbed again as he kissed her gently, his own lips curved Ito a smile against hers.

"I already have the greatest gift of them all," he murmured, burying his face in Khayl's hair as his cheeks pinked slightly. Khayl felt herself smile and blush slightly but busied herself with opening the package so that he couldn't see.

She pulled out one of the knives in his boots and deftly cut the string that tied it closed, unfolding the paper and unceremoniously shoving it on the floor. She held up the item inside for his inspection, smiling sheepishly as he took it from her and averting her eyes so that she couldn't see his reaction.

There was silence and a bark of breathless laughter. Khayl felt his fingers touch the far side of her jaw and he gradually turned her head about so that he could tenderly touch their foreheads together. They held the pose, closing their eyes and basking in the moment.

"Do you like it?" Khayl asked tentatively, opening her eyes and seeing pure and unadulterated emotion shining in Fili's eyes.

"It's perfect," he said with honesty resonating in his tone. Khayl grinned and they both looked down at the simple thing that had at last brought them together.

It was a belt. It was as wide as his hand with small, geometric plates that all linked together, allowing to be strong and supple. The leather underneath was made from pig skin; supple, durable and water resistant. The belt itself had innumerable loops and catches for all of things Fili might ever need to carry. The back of the belt had crossed knife sheaths because the dwarf prince possessed more knives than a cook ever used in his life. There were several pouches and rings so that he could carry a sword and sheath on each hip or throw his travelling scabbard over his shoulder. It was practical, durable and attractive.

In that instance, Khayl supposed, it was just like Fili.

~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~

**Author's note**

**Hey, guess what! Final chapter of this, the first arc. Yup, that's right 34 chapters later and we actually get to move on to the quest!**

**Whoot Whoot!**

**(Apologies for any errors; blame them on my first attempt at writing with my tablet)**

**~ ( ) ~**

**On that note, some test out my rusty knowledge because by deductions the Unexpected Party at Bilbo's was in mid April, around the fifteenth. That would make it mid spring at the time (in the Southern Hemisphere it would be autumn)**

**The company arrives in Rivendell in mid June making it a two and a half month journey. Just under two months to Beorns. They stay with Beorn for one whole day and leave midday the next day. four days to Mirkwood.**

**Autumn begins whist they are in Mirkwood. Bilbo spends over two weeks getting the dwarves out. Another two weeks are spent in Lake Town. Two days up the across the long lake to River Running in a boat.**

**That's the timeline I managed to slap together by flipping through the book. Let me know if I need any corrections or additions. (This was made in about ten minutes and may need some revision)**

**~ ( ) ~**

**Thank you all so much for bearing with me so far! Now I'm going to go back and revise all of the chapters and update them so that everything flows. Then I will continue with the story!**

**Have patience my lovelies! (You may get an update if you're all lovely and review! But I make no promises)**

**I hope you are all having a wonderful new year. **

**(On another note I have to get glasses soon. Perhaps my work will be of a better quality when I can actually see what I'm doing!)**


	35. Chapter 35 So Strange

**Chapter 35: So Strange**

**Thank you to my reviewers for being my inspiration. My love goes out to aeriestar, Knowing grace, PurpleFairy11, luvgirl101, Katherine Sparrow, Dalonega Noquisi, kimberlybluebelle, bloodyrose129, KeepingThemAtBay and Prost. Also my eternal gratitude to everyone who has added this story to their favourites or follows.**

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"It seems so strange," Fili hummed, his long nose deftly brushing across Khayl's jawline.

"Hmm?" Was the eloquent reply he received from a rather distracted red-head. Khayl deftly attempted to shake the fogginess from her head, not an easy task when she and Fili were still curled on the lounge, her still half sat on his lap. The dynamic between them had certainly changed and Khayl suddenly found herself craving this kind of physical intimacy which she had been denied for so long. It felt good to have someone in her arms, someone to kiss, to talk to, to laugh with and, often, to laugh at. And it felt right that the someone was Fili.

"Not so long ago we despised one another," Fili mused, looking vacantly past everything with troubled blue eyes. Khayl tucked her head between his shoulder and neck, placing a hand over the place where his heart beat solidly in his chest. She could feel his pulse beneath her hand, even through the layer of his tunic. Oddly enough it seemed to thrum in perfect sync with the rapid pounding in her own skull. Mila and Dis hadn't been overly forthcoming when speaking of ways that the Bond could change a couple, preferring to inform Khayl that it generally differed from pair to pair, the power of their love manifesting in different ways.

It all seemed rather wishy-washy to Khayl, but her heart told her that it was right. And if the beau whose heart beat powerfully in tandem to her own spoke any truth, it was right to him too. Things had changed so radically and so quickly, but already Khayl was beginning to dread each moment she was away from him. With each moment he was not smiling at her, touching her or sharing with her a glance that felt so intense and private she felt bereft, as though she had lost something precious. Every time she saw him, without fail, her heart would begin galloping in her chest, her blood would sear through her veins like dragon fire and her mind would lose its train of thought. Ever since they had survived the orcs, they had seemed to work together on a whole other frequency from everyone else around them.

Yes, it was right. Yet Khayl could not find the words to express this to Fili. It turned out she didn't need to anyway.

"It does not matter anyway," Fili said with dismissive hum low in his chest. He nodded resolutely to himself. Khayl wondered if his words were for himself or for her. "I know that I love you, and that is all I am concerned with. It no longer matters how terribly this all began."

Khayl could have melted into an enormous puddle of emotional mess then and there. Instead she smiled goofily, curling a hand around the back of his neck.

"It was quite an epic mess, wasn't it?" Khayl said with a grin. "I mean, what a silly way to get two people to realise that they are destined to be together. Making them hate each other. Pfft."

Fili laughed, his teeth flashing. Khayl marvelled at how bright he seemed when he laughed and smiled.

"I blame it on Amad," Fili said, guffawing. "If she had of just told me…"

"I blame it on every single dwarf in Ered Luin who knew and didn't say," Khayl mock pouted. "I mean, how embarrassing is it that we walked around for so long, openly despising each other, and everyone knew that we were actually fated to be together?"

"It was quite embarrassing when we at last found out," Fili admitted sheepishly. "Even Kili knew what was going on."

"Now that is shameful," Khayl laughed. "Oh! We were so damn oblivious! I can't believe it. People must have just looked at us and thought us such thick-witted fools!"

"And you know what?" Fili asked the dwarrowdam who shook her head with a never-wavering smile on her face. "I couldn't care less what they thought."

"Oh? And why is that?" Khayl asked, feigning ignorance.

"Because I got the most wonderful dwarrowdam of them all, and I'm going to marry her and everything will be perfect," he sighed, almost wistfully, laughing when Khayl scowled.

"Where is this female? I'll cut off her braids and choke her with them!" The red-head declared, baring her teeth. There was a moment before the two of them howled with laughter and then Fili tenderly pressed his forehead against hers. He let out a heavy exhalation.

"Oh Mahal," he almost moaned, and Khayl felt a shudder run down her spine. "How have I ever lived without you, my heart?"

"I have no idea," Khayl smirked. "I am pretty wonderful. Meeting me tends to be a life-altering experience for many people."

Fili groaned and kissed his betrothed tenderly upon the lips. "Just shut up Khayl."

"Shutting up," Khayl vowed before grumbling as he withdrew for the kiss, preferring to look upon her disgruntled expression.

"Do not tempt me, vile seductress," Fili warned and Khayl raised a brow, though a smile played at her lips.

"Vile? Seductress?" she queried, innocence written all of her face even as mischief sparked in her eyes.

"You have no idea what you do to me," Fili muttered, resting his forehead upon her shoulder. Khayl smiled as she placed a hand in his hair and tenderly stroked her fingers over a tightly woven braid.

"I think I might," she confessed, the burning in the pit of her stomach and the rapid pounding of her heart attesting to the the fact.

Fili made an indiscernible sound in the back of his throat before he stiffened beneath her touch.

"Khayl, " he said softly to gain her attention.

" Hmm?" she responded. He looked up and stared straight into her eyes.

"Might I braid your hair?" he asked, running a few strands of the soft, ginger tresses through his calloused fingers. Khayl blushed, a deep red spotting her cheeks and clamouring up her the side of her neck, the tips of her ears set to burning. Such was the intensity within the dwarf's hooded gaze.

"Thought you'd never ask," she managed to choke out. Fili smiled at her and she ran a thumb across one of his prominent dimples in wonder. How did she ever get so lucky? "But let me braid yours first."

Fili acquiesced by sliding to the floor and settling between her knees, a slight groan betraying him as he rested his back against the lounge.

"You are still not fully healed," Khayl accused gently, prodding him in the back of the head. Fili grumbled something unintelligible in reply. Khayl sighed in a long-suffering way as she sectioned off a piece of hair on the right side of his head beneath the braid that was already at his temple. She split it into several pieces as she spoke. "If it does not get better, you should tell Thorin."

Fili did not reply, knowing she was right, but simply marvelling in the feel of her fingers against his scalp. He had gotten a the blunt end of a spear ramped into his back during their fight with the orcs. It had struck him sharply just below his right shoulder blade. It was often as though he could still feel the imprint of where the spear struck him if he breathed too deeply or moved to exuberantly. Khayl was the only one who knew; he had succeeded in hiding it from the others. If they knew they would certainly never allow him to go on the quest if he wasn't in peak condition.

"I will mention it to him if I need to," He conceeded. Khayl huffed a sigh once again.

"Fili…" she began, before thinking better of what she was going to say. Fili waited patiently for her to continue speaking, and to continue working on the braid. It just felt so good to have her hands by his head, the gentle tugging on his scalp. Having her so close…

Then the toe of her boot jabbed him in the lower ribs.

He yelped, taking in a sharp intake of breath that set his muscles on fire. The pain went from where the spear impacted right around, across his abdominals to just under his sternum. The pain almost brought tears to his eyes. He had not been expecting that at all.

"Khayl!" he cried out in confusion. He went to turn about and glare at her but a sharp tug on his hair reminded him to stay still. He thought perhaps they should work on their communication skills a little better.

"I won't tell anyone about it," she said, her lips close to his ear and the whisper of her breath on his cheek sent shivers down his spine. "But I need you to think about yourself, and the others. What if keeping it a secret puts everyone at risk? What if it gets you killed? What about me then?"

"It won't, I swear it. I think it's getting better anyway," Fili said quickly, wanting to reassure her and defend himself in the same breath. Even so, he could practically hear Khayl's eyebrow lift itself sceptically. So he said; "It hasn't been bothering me quite so much when sparring, or in the forge."

"But you are not sleeping," Khayl finished. She had made beads for this occasion and pulled one from her pocket now. She tied off the end of the braid and clasped the bead onto. She left the clasp that held Fili's hair from coming forward over his face and placed her own in Fili's hand for the time being. He sat quietly, admiring the silver-work. The clasp was inlaid with gold.

"How do you know?" he asked Khayl. He didn't even know how she knew about his injury in the first place. He had never mentioned it to her, and he didn't think she would notice it unless she knew it was there.

"I can feel your pain at night," Khayl confessed. She had yet to begin on the other side of his hair so he turned about and looked at her. There was an unnameable emotion in her eyes, mottled brown and green as they were. "I lay there in silence and I can feel your shortness of breath, the way you curl into a ball to try and alleviate it."

"The bond is much stronger at night," Fili said, whether to himself or to Khayl, neither of them knew.

"We are vulnerable to one another then," Khayl confessed with a slightly troubled smile. "Our defences are down. It is the same when one of us feels a very powerful emotion."

"I could feel your trepidation as you approached, though I didn't know where you were or what you were doing," Fili admitted.

"It is so strange…" Khayl began softly.

"To know that you are never alone," Fili finished, brushing Khayl's hand which lingered idly by his ear.

"It is a beautiful sensation though," Khayl separated several strands on the left side of his head just as she had done previously. She made a mental note to do something wonderful for Mila who had gone above and beyond the call of duty to teach Khayl the necessary braids. "I do not know how your mother can be alone now."

Khayl bit her lip, fearing that she had touched on an extremely sensitive subject, but Fili didn't seem phased.

"She is strong," he said. "So very strong. I would be an absolute wreck."

"I understand that feeling," Khayl hissed between her teeth as two strands of hair tangled and she had to unwind and redo a small section of the braid.

"I remember what she was like after my father died," Fili sighed, his memories going way back to a happy childhood marred by a singular black event. "I thought she was going to die. She wouldn't talk, or eat or communicate with others. Uncle cared for Kili and I as best he could, but I was so afraid that Amad was going to die. So I asked her if she was going to leave Kili and I alone with uncle. She looked at me clearly for the first time in nearly a year and said that we would surely drive uncle to ruin and then the line of Durin would end itself. She laughed and just kind of… came back to life. It was terrifying."

"That must've been hard to watch as I child," Khayl said finishing the braid and capping it with the other bead. She took the clasp from Fili's fingers and put a twist in the two braids so that they formed a round loop above the clasp before going back underneath the and hanging out the bottom. Marriage braids were designed so that they couldn't be put in by the dwarf who bore them, meaning their life partner had to be there to do it for them. Even Khayl, who thought most dwarf traditions were ridiculous and overrated thought this braiding one was clever.

"It was," Fili replied running a hand over the completed braids with a grin and exchanging places with Khayl. "Though I can not imagine how difficult it must have been for you to be raised by humans and then suddenly get thrown into the middle of dwarf culture."

"Now that was… interesting," Khayl grinned, though she knew Fili couldn't see it. She froze as he realised that he was undoing the large clasps that held her hair in a thick rope down her back. He also removed all of her other braids save the ones that hung before her ears.

"What are you doing?" Khayl asked curiously as he sectioned off a piece of hair in the same place she had done her own braids. "You are supposed to be adding, not removing."

"Someone like you, with hair like this," he pushed a piece of her long multi-hued hair over her shoulder for her inspection. "Should not keep it tied back and bound."

Khayl would have stared at him if she could. In substitute she merely allowed her mouth to hang open. "It bothered you that much?" she asked in wonder. "It bothered you enough that you have decided to change my whole style before we are even wed?"

"We will be wed soon enough," Fili replied almost smugly. "And yes, your hair has always bothered me. It is so beautiful and wild, like yourself. Stop trying to constrain it."

"It was only for practicality's sake," Khayl huffed, feeling the need to defend herself for some peculiar reason. "And what do you mean by 'we will be wed soon enough?'"

"I would have you mine before I must leave you." Fili said, referring to the quest. Khayl debated for a long moment how she was supposed to explain that she was going also, for clearly Thorin had not told his nephew. She was saved the necessity of this however when Fili announced that he had finished. He was much faster at braiding that she was, but she supposed that was the benefit of many long years spent braiding his hair each day.

Khayl ran her hands around, feeling the braids that went from behind her ears to the back of her head. Fili had used a similar design to hers, only the one in her hair was more elaborate, having four flat loops above the clasp before the remainder of the two braids hung loose at the back. He replaced the two beads that hung from the from the braids before her ears with his own beads. Khayl swallowed she he folded her old beads and clasps into her palm. This was it. No turning back. Not that she really ever had a chance to anyway.

Fili put his hands on her waist and dragged her back onto the couch where the leaned in a placed their foreheads together. There was peace in that moment, pure, unadulterated peace and a bond so thick it could never be severed.

* * *

***waves* hi! Guess who still exists? I do! *whispers* please don't throw anything at me...**

**I'm not abandoning you all, pinky promise. The problem is I'm in my last year of school and its only second week and I'm all ready getting dragged under... My horse keeps giving me reproachful looks because he's not being ridden, so don't you lot start too! (I'm joking haha)**

**Anyway, after Fili's scene in BOTFA armies I kind of missed the rest of the movie because my mind formulated a plan for a new fan fic. Guess what? It's still Fili and Khayl! Yep, Another road will be another take on Fili and Khayl and everybody else. It's pretty much a 'what if Khayl was born a dwarf' and a 'What if Fili didn't die' rolled into one. Please please let me know if you want me to post it. I'm handwriting before typing so it will be of a higher standard than TTE... XD**

**I missed you all so much! So I'm going to stop talking now and just post this chapter.**

**PS. Apologies to anyone who didn't get a reply to their last review. Its been so long I can't remember who I messaged back!**


	36. Chapter 36 Doubt

**Chapter 36: Doubt**

**With a special thanks to kimberlybluebelle, Guest, CrazyFanGirl18, luvgirl101, PurpleFairy11, bloodyrose1294, Dalonega Noquisi, REDRydingHood, beccy26o9, KeepingThemAtBay, AlliBaba13 and SherlockAvenger for being wonderful reviewers.**

**Also, to the fabulous KeepingThemAtBay, you were my 200****th**** reviewer! Whoop Whoop!**

**Wonderful readers, help me make my story better. Please point out any of the numerous typos and other places that I have effectively f*!cked up. **

**~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~**

The slamming open of a door and subsequent cursing was as effective a mood killer as anything. Khayl went to leap to her feet at the same moment that Fíli surged to his, resulting in a tangle of limbs and two dwarrow sprawled across the floor. Khayl groaned from where Fíli had landed atop of her and he rubbed his forehead where it had collided with the floor.

"What in the-" Kíli's voice drew closer to them before screeching "Not looking! I am NOT looking!"

Khayl screwed her head around in time to see the idiot she would have to call 'brother' clap a hand over his eyes and backtrack, only to walk straight into the wall opposite.

"Kíli! What in Mahal's good name are you doing!?" Dís stern voice echoed through the hall and Khayl and Fíli resumed their frenzied struggle to rise, only resulting in tripping each other twice more. Khayl was acutely aware of the moment when Fíli's sturdy figure froze atop hers and she gradually craned her head about to see Dís standing in the doorway, an indescribable expression on her face.

Khayl groaned in dismay, read to dish out any excuse she could when things got even worse.

Thorin's looming figure appeared behind his sister, his brows rising incredulously up his forehead, his blue eyes widening almost comically. It was not a look the dwarrowdam thought she would ever see on the King-in-Exile's face.

She heard what sounded suspiciously like a whimper come from Fíli as his uncle crossed to them in four large strides. He must've grasped Fíli's collar and hauled him up for Khayl felt the unmistakeable lift of his weight off her form. She could breathe again.

Khayl rose up on shaky legs, colour blooming up her neck and splashing across her cheeks. Mahal! Even her ears were burning.

"An explanation lad?" Thorin's voice was like the thunder of an early summer storm; low and menacing, a promise of power and relentlessness, of the tempest to come.

"It's not what you think?" Khayl offered meekly whilst Fíli remained silent and submissive. She had an unnerving feeling that she was supposed to do the same; Fíli did know how to weather Thorin's temper much better than she did.

"We tripped," Khayl said in the silence that followed. She could hear Kíli rustling around a ways off, in the kitchen most likely, having scarpered at the first sign of danger. She wished he would come back. She could use something to take her mind off the sceptical look on Thorin's face. Dís wore her own expressions closely guarded. There was no telling what the dwarrowmatron was thinking.

"A likely story," Thorin said and Khayl bit her lip. She took a peek at Fíli, his cheeks once more flushed that adorable shade of pink below the golden tone of his skin as he struggled to retain a masculine and strong air, caught in his uncle's iron grip as he was.

Fíli caught Khayl's eye before looking for the belt she had given him, spying it on the floor just by the lounge. When he was sure that both of them had seen it he shot Khayl another glance, this time complete with waggled eyebrows and a boyish smirk. It was so uncharacteristic of him that she snorted. Loudly. Dís, who had been watching in a bemused kind of silence the entire time, valiantly fought back the grin that wished to cross her lips at their antics.

Khayl meanwhile was once again looking at Fíli, who was still held upright by Thorin and doing his best possible impression of a limp, dead fish. For all the world it looked like the grouchy old alpha wolf putting his foot down in regards to the shenanigans of a young pup. It was also becoming exceedingly apparent that Thorin was a very powerful dwarf. Fíli, of about average height for a dwarf if not a bit taller, was strong for his age. But next to Thorin he looked like nothing. He looked like a child. It was no small wonder that he had long ago found that the wisest course of action was to play dead when it came to an angry uncle. Khayl did wonder if dwarves lost any of their strength with age.

Khayl exchanged another glance with Fíli who stared back at her helplessly, looking like he wanted to shrug his shoulders but was unable to do so due to the aforementioned angry uncle. Instead the blonde smiled slightly at her, nodding his head to the belt which remained unnoticed by the older dwarves.

"Can I come in yet?" Kíli's best whiny voice came from the hall as hhe re-entered the room with his hand still covering his eyes. Dís sighed at him in a kind of long-suffering exasperation and Kíli removed the hand, smiling sheepishly at his mother.

It was as he did so that the absurdity of the whole moment caught up with the other two young dwarrow who sniggered together before breaking down into full-throated, rib-cracking laughs, tears springing to their eyes. Dís was half smiling despite her best efforts, raising her eyes heavenward and Kíli looked absolutely bewildered.

Thorin grunted something that could have been a word or just nothing before releasing Fíli. The blonde staggered as his full weight came back onto his feet, tripping forward into Khayl who held him steady for a brief moment before releasing her betrothed.

"Khayl bought me a gift," Fíli managed to choke out when his laughter had begun to die down a little. Khayl grinned winningly at him as he bent to retrieve the belt, running the soft pliable leather through his hands and tracing the cool metal with calloused thumbs. Dís' eyes widened comically before she smiled so wide that she looked like she was going to eat her own beard. Dís let out a peculiar, high-pitched squeal and launched herself at the young couple, grabbing both of them about the neck and drawing them into a tight embrace, intentionally or accidentally knocking their heads together.

"Amad!" Fíli choked whilst Khayl writhed helplessly in the older dwarrowdam's grip.

"My boy's getting married!" Dís sung, sounding jubilant and strained at the same time. Khayl felt wetness in her hair and realised the Dís was silently weeping. He grip loosened enough that Fíli and Khayl could move in her arms and return the embrace.

"Amad?" Fíli asked softly, reaching up a hand to stroke away a stray tear on the dwarrowmatron's face. "What's wrong?"

Dís shook her head vigorously, a smile on her beautiful, tear-stained features. She tenderly placed her hand over Fíli's own on her cheek for a moment. "Nothing is wrong, Fíli. I am just so happy; there is so much in this life I have never been able to give you. You deserve this, my son. I am so very happy for you. For you both."

"Amad-" Fíli began, meaning to rebuke her for thinking that she had failed in any way at raising him or his brother, but she silenced him by placing a tender kiss on his forehead. Then she turned to Khayl, and the red-head felt the whiskery brush of Dís' beard against her own forehead, followed by the cool placing of lips upon her skin. The gesture seemed simple enough, but beneath it there was a whole slew of meaning. That simple kiss bore with it a message of acceptance and love, or joy.

Dís gently pushed her son away and grinned at Khayl, all signs of tears vanishing. "It shall be so nice having someone here whilst my three boys are off on their quest for the mountain."

Thorin huffed, apparently not appreciating being called one of his sisters 'boys' or being lumped in the same category as Fíli and Kíli (who was miraculously still standing quietly, though he had an enormous grin on his face.) . Khayl turned towards Thorin, doing her best to hold her expression in check.

"You didn't tell them?" she asked incredulously. "You didn't tell any of them?"

Thorin bristled, though perhaps it was Khayl's imagination but he almost looked uncomfortable in his own skin. "Have you no tongue in your own head?" he chastised her, but a silent look between the both of them made it very clear that they had both made a very large and very foolish oversight.

"Tell us what?" Fíli's voice was low and wary, like he was worried about startling a wild beast. He turned to his uncle and his tone turned dangerous. "Uncle…" He warned. Thorin returned the warning glare levelly, unthreatened.

There was silence, and a three way glaring contest going on with Khayl and Fíli both staring down Thorin and he being able to divide his scowl between the two of them.

"Thorin…" the Lady Dís hissed and Khayl stared in amazement as the mighty Thorin Oakenshield actually quailed under the look she gave him. It wasn't amazing noticeable, more like a small wriggle and a slight twitch in his brow, but Khayl thought she might hold it over him forever. Thorin was scared of his sister, his _little _sister. Khayl had always thought that it was an illusion that Dís held the power in the household, but now she saw the truth of it. Khayl had a thought that maybe she had just found her idol.

"I'm afraid I won't be able to stay with you, Dís," Khayl said, feeling like she had to say _something._ She regretted it fleetingly as three pairs of eyes turned to her with confusion and disbelief written in their depths.

"Wh- where will you be?" Kíli asked, the only one out of his brother and mother who was able to find it within themselves to speak, though he did so falteringly as though he didn't truly wish to know the answer.

Khayl closed her eyes briefly, her mind flitting over all the possible ways she could expose the truth to them without causing chaos or disgracing herself or Thorin. _Quick, like a bandaid. _The words were spoken in smiling voice as though from behind a thick curtain in the back of her mind, the voice feminine and with a laughing lilt to it. She felt warmth, comfort and familiarity at the sound before she squashed whatever it was. She didn't _want _to remember, so all those voices could just _disappear_, thank you very much.

The advice was sound though, and Khayl chose this as the best route to take. A quick burst of pain now and it would gradually fade into an irritating tingle before dissipating entirely. Hopefully she wouldn't pull loose a half-healed wound which would bleed freely in the aftermath.

"I will be on the quest," Khayl said, opening her eyes and tilting her chin defiantly. She kept her gaze focused on Fíli, feeling his disbelief, anger and concern pulse through their bond with a vengeance. "With you."

"And when was this decided?" Fíli asked, in that same low, dangerous tone. Khayl felt a pricking sensation in the back of her eyes as his disappointment registered. He was disappointed, in _her. _He took her silence as her having lied to him. Were they not supposed to be honest with one another?

"Before the funeral," Khayl replied, not needing to emphasise on whose funeral. Dís still cringed every time it was mentioned. The pain of losing Aro was like a barely healed wound; constantly itchy and eager to bleed each time it was touched. Hard to staunch once that thin protective layer of skin was sundered.

"And you didn't think to mention anything to me?" Fíli asked, trying to hold his voice steady, but it wavered at the very last moment.

"It has been so long…" Khayl began. "I had assumed that Thorin would have mentioned something by now."

The dwarrowdam turned to face the raven-haired elder, raising an eyebrow in clear judgement. His eyes were twinkling in amusement by this point and Khayl oh-so-wished she had something to throw at him and his smug face. Curse him for lumping her with this! He had no consideration for others and a streak of mischief as wide as the two brothers combined.

"But _why?" _Fíli asked plaintively, his anger fading. As much as he didn't like the circumstances, he could see how such an oversight could and did occur.

At long last, Thorin stepped forward to take some responsibility upon his own shoulders. "I asked it of her Fíli. Her help will be invaluable. You know we need every able-bodied dwarf that we can find."

"Thorin!" Dís snapped, awakening from her silence at last. She fixed her brother with a chilling glare. "Khayl is not just a dwarf! She is a dwarrowdam, and betrothed to your nephew! The heir! You don't just ask the future queen to go tramping off across the land on a mission that could well cost her life!"

The family dissolved into a massive argument of the kind only dwarven families seem capable of. Fíli and Dís bore down on Thorin who withstood them, his arms folded stolidly across his chest, glares filled with blue ice going in all directions. Khayl, for her part, felt numb. She muttered a quiet, unheard _excuse me _before shuffling over to the hall where she leaned against the cool wall. She closed her eyes and inclined her head upwards.

When Kíli approached her, Khayl looked almost to be in some form of prayer, her eyes shut tight, palms pressed to the wall behind her, her face tilted towards the heavens and her mouth moving in a silent chant. It took a moment, but he soon realised that she was just repeating one word over and over, like the beating of a marching drum.

_Queen_

_Queen_

_Queen…_

"Khayl?" he asked, stepping forward and brushing a touch across her shoulder. Her mouth stopped moving and she stiffened minutely, but did not open her eyes. She released an enormous exhalation, breathing out as though she could banish all her pains and issues with that single freed breath.

"Marrying Fíli," Khayl paused, choking a little on the words she was to say next. "Marrying him, I will become the crown princess, yes?"

"Yes," Kíli watched in concern as her mottled eyes edged themselves open and she stared at him beseechingly. The sounds of his family snarling at one another drifted through the wooden wall and closed door, muted but not utterly obscured. "And one day you will be queen. You will stand next to my brother and represent our people with strength and decorum."

Khayl cracked a smile. "That actually sounded like something a _prince _would say."

"I have my moments," Kíli smirked, pretending to be quite chuffed with himself. He was just glad he got her smiling again. He couldn't stand to let this affect her; she already had already suffered through too many difficulties, more even than any of them knew of, he thought. She would be a fine and capable leader when the time came. She had already proven herself skilled in this way when they escaped from the clutches of the orcs. He had utter faith in her, and not just because she was his best friend and future sister-in-law. Kíli leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her frame, her own hands coming up to clasp tightly at the back of his shirt. "You will be fine, Khayl. You won't be alone, no matter what comes."

"I know. Thank you, Kíli. I just- I freaked out for a moment there," Khayl admitted with a small, rather embarrassed smile. She released him and reached up to scratch her ear sheepishly. "I guess I just hadn't thought about it all. I've never really think of you all as royalty, either."

"That's the scary thing about going to reclaim the mountain. Erebor," he adverted his eyes from her, as though he was ashamed about what he was saying. "Here, Fíli and I don't really have any responsibilities or anything. We're just like everyone else for the most part. There's no need for ceremony. But once we get the mountain back we'll be princes for real. Thorin will be King and everything will change. I don't really know how I'm supposed to, you know, adjust to that."

Kíli stared at the floor for a moment, uncharacteristically sombre. Khayl nudged her friend with her arm.

"Hey now, at least we'll be able to fumble along together," She said with a bright smile. Kíli grinned in response before looping his arm through Khayl's.

"Shall we?" he asked and she nodded with a small smile, patting his forearm as though they were a genial old couple.

"We shall, my dear," Khayl concluded primly before allowing Kíli to guide her back to the others. He pushed open the door and they stood on the threshold for a brief moment, just in time to hear Thorin swear and to see the exiled King topple over in an undignified heap.

"Wha-?" was all that managed to escape Khayl's mouth before she was laughing right alongside the others, ignoring Thorin, who glared reproachfully at them all before scrambling to his feet and dusting off his coat with as much dignity as he could still scrape together. Which to say, not a lot.

"King-Under-The-Mountain, Thorin the Almighty Oakenshield," Dís teased, smirking at her brother. "Defeated by a lowly footstool!"

And with that Thorin mock-snarled and lunged after his younger sibling. Dís, the radiant, sophisticated, princess of Durin's line, shrieked like a young child and neatly evaded him.

"How did this happen?" Khayl asked, somewhat in awe as Dís, in her heavy skirts and finery, escaped her big brother again and again until Thorin managed to snag one hand on the trailing fabric. He yanked on it and dragged Dís towards him, both of them laughing uproariously as the princess continued to struggle.

"I said something cruel," Fíli said in an serious undertone in Khayl's ear so that Kíli wouldn't hear. "I think he stepped back so he wouldn't strike me. Then he just … tripped over the stool."

Khayl gave him a pointed look out of the corner of her eye, one that he interpreted in an instant, guilt weighing on his mind.

"I will apologise," Fíli said, taking her hand and running his thumb over it before he manoeuvred her back out into the hallway where they could talk without interruption. "But first I want to apologise to you."

"Me?" Khayl asked, tilting her head. "What for?"

"For doubting you."

"Fíli, no – you didn't-" Khayl tried to say, but the words just wouldn't come. Fíli reached out to cup her face in his rough palms, smiling slightly, though it was a slow, sad smile.

"Yes, I did." He confessed. "Not for long, but I did. And it's not my place to doubt you, not now, not ever."

"Doubt is part of being-" Khayl caught her tongue before she accidentally said 'human.' It was a close thing and Fíli looked curiously at her for the near slip. "-of being _us. _Everybody doubts, all the time."

"You never seem to," Fíli said with a smile. Khayl snorted.

"Yes, I do. All the time." She admitted.

"She does," Kíli chimed as he wandered past absently.

"Your brother is so … peculiar." Khayl said as she watched the brunette disappear back into the kitchen.

"That's why the two of you get along so well," Fíli responded with that cheeky grin she had come to know and love so well.

"Ass."

**~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~ ( ) ~**

**Once again I must apologise for this being horrendously late. So, I am truly sorry. I hope you enjoyed though. A bit of silliness but some deep stuff too. **

**As no doubt most of you don't know, I'm in year twelve, my final year of school this year. Or at least I was. I've now kinda unofficially dropped out. I mentioned a few months ago about injury, well I have bad back pain and it has recently increased tenfold for no explainable reason to the point where I can no longer attend school with continuing to aggravate my pain. So for a few weeks now I've just been trying to get my feet back under me and acclimatise to my new existence. In that I am living at home (17 still) in the country and am still inching towards my license. Until then I can't get a job. **

**Now, while this is negative for me in some ways and was temporarily depressing, I'm bouncing back as I always seem to do and am getting stronger each day. That means this is a positive for you guys! I have more opportunity to write and am spending much more time on creating better chapters for you guys! Wooh! **

**It also means I've become extremely lazy, but reviews motivate me like nothing else! *hint hint***

**Also - and this is the final thing, I swear – I have started that other story I mentioned! Yup, Another Road (Whichever Way We Go) is the title and you should all go totally check it out. If you haven't already then you obviously don't follow me as a writer, which you totally should because I upload loads of different Hobbit stuff. (This is another one of those *hint hint* moments!) **

**Side note – check out my profile because I now take your prompts and make wonderful, literary things! Er, stories. **


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